


You Are My Family

by TypicalAccountName



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Forced Relationship, I'm Sorry, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Langst, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Obsession, Obsessive Love, Stockholm Syndrome, dubcon, lotor is not a good dude here, non con stuff will happen in later chapters, tagging noncon to be on the safe side
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2019-07-18 00:56:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 55,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16107404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TypicalAccountName/pseuds/TypicalAccountName
Summary: Lance struggles to keep his sanity through Lotor's imprisonment (and the intentions behind it) whilst the Paladins struggle to bring him home.Everyone wants a family. How far would you be willing to go for yours?





	1. Simple Words

_"I guess I feel sorry for him."_

 

Those words rang in his ears constantly. No matter how many nights he spent pacing. No matter how many planets he enslaved. Those words wouldn't leave.

 

_"Everyone deserves a family."_

 

Lotor sat on his throne, contemplating. In this silent room it was hard not to. While there were guards posted at every door, Lotor didn’t care to speak with them. And that wretched witch, Haggar, would rarely interact with him, especially after the death of his father at Voltron’s hands. Not that he cared, the only words she would give would be critical anyway.

 

So when there were no planets to attack, no uprisings to crush, no battles to be fought, Lotor, with nothing better to do, would be plagued by those words. The words of the Blue Paladin.

 

* * *

 

Lotor had not expected to see him that night.

 

Making his way through the crowded club, Lotor arrived at the bar. After a hard day of meetings with that hag, he needed a drink.

 

Luckily his Altean heritage allowed him to disguise himself, to avoid confrontation. This was not a Galra run bar. He’d ordered his drink, and scanned the club, watching those lower life form’s dance to the blaring music. And that’s when he’d spotted him.

 

Lotor could not believe his luck. A mere few feet away, he could see the Blue Paladin dancing. And not demurely. The boy was fully lost in the rhythm, gyrating his hips and throwing back his head. Lotor had scoffed at the display. It was similar to how his concubines would present themselves to him. While he’d examined the Paladin’s fighting styles in combat, he’d only heard snippets about their personalities. He’d heard that the blue one was a flirt. Apparently he was also an idiot. He was clearly drunk.

 

Drunk meant weak. Drunk meant vulnerable. It meant easy to shoot down.

 

Lotor didn’t plan on working tonight, but he wouldn’t pass up on an opportunity when it slapped him in the face.

 

But before he could do anything, Lance had spotted him staring, and had made his way over.

 

“So come here often? Or is this your first time staring at boys?” Lance had said, with a smirk. That seemed to be a trait of the Blue Paladin, snark. In a previous battle, Lance had provided him with a witty comment about his hair, which Lotor had to admit at the time had been charming. Charming enough to remember anyway.

 

Lotor smirked back, “Don’t flatter yourself. I just recognize you, you’re a Paladin of Voltron, Lance, right?”

 

Lance flicked his hair back, a comical show of arrogance, “You bet I am, and what’s your name?”

 

“That’s classified.”

 

“Woah, a mysterious type, huh?”

 

“Only because I want to hear more about you. What’s Voltron been up to lately?”

 

“In your words, that’s classified.” They both laughed.

 

At that moment, a scuffle broke out on the dance floor between two small aliens, who were yelling and pointing aggressively at one another.

 

“Fighting over a girl, perhaps?” Lotor pondered aloud.

 

“No, one of them stole the other guys drink.” Lance stated.

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“It’s obvious.”

 

“How is it obvious?”

 

“You can tell by his body language. And his expressions. And well, you know, by the drink in his hand.”

 

“Hmm, that’s pretty smart”

 

“Thanks. Since I’m a Paladin, I should probably go break it up or whatever…” Lance made to leave, which Lotor could not allow, grabbing his shoulder gently.

 

“No, stay. I see you were getting into the music. You were clearly enjoying yourself.” Lotor didn’t want to admit that he had been enjoying Lance’s display too. The way that Lance was drunkenly looking at him didn’t help.

 

Lance looked at the fight that was now being taken outside, shrugged and said “Alright. Yeah, I love this type of music, it reminds me of home. Me and mom would always listen to this stuff when I was little.” Lotor saw that the boy suddenly looked a little forlorn. A sensitive topic, Lotor smirked. Noted.

 

“You miss your mother?”

 

“Yeah, my whole family actually. Today it’s my grandma’s birthday, and we would always..”

 

Lance began to talk animatedly about his family. His stories would be entertaining to others, but as Lotor could not relate, he could not bring himself to care. Instead he studied Lance’s face, the glow of the candles giving a good view. He couldn’t deny that the boy was attractive, with clear skin and blue eyes. He clearly had some brains too, but Lotor didn’t want to acknowledge that at that present moment. Besides, the Paladin’s behavior seemed far more based on appearances anyway. He would be a good fuck. Nothing else to him.

 

“And what about _your_ family?” Lance had asked.

 

Lotor shrugged, “I do not consider my blood relatives to be my family. They never cared for me, nor I for them.”

 

Lance patted his arm, a show of sympathy. “That’s too bad man, you seem like a good dude. That sounds similar to a lot of Galran families. I remember the Princess was telling us about Lotor and Zarkon’s relationship and-quiznack, I’ve said too much. I need to lay off the drink.”

 

But Lotor didn’t want him to stop, and placed his hand upon Lances, stroking up his arm. He too was not above flirting. He was intrigued at what the Paladin had to say, and there was a part of him that enjoyed the feel of his skin, the blush on the Paladin’s face. Despite the way he danced, the boy seemed rather innocent.

 

“Please, go on. I won’t tell a soul”

 

“Well….I guess since he’s the enemy it’s not so bad to release information on him. We were just talking about how they barely seem like a family. Which sucks I think.”

 

Lotor paused. “You think it sucks? For who?”

 

“For Lotor; even though he’s an awful guy, and I want his ass thrown in prison, I guess…” and then Lance said it. Those words that had haunted Lotor ever since.

 

“I guess I feel sorry for him. Everyone deserves a family.”

 

Time had seemed to be standing still. No one had ever shown pity to him before, no one had regarded his relationship to his father with so much as a passing glance. To say he felt sorry for him, no one dared to say that him. No one _cared_ to.

 

It was as if the candles on the bar had lit up his soul. He watched the light dance off Lance’s eyes; eyes that gleamed sapphire, that had softened while mentioning _him._ And Lotor began to add up all of the things he had noticed about Lance that night, but had not admitted to himself until that very moment.

 

He was sex, with the way he had moved on the dance floor. He was smart, with his analysis. He was naivety, with his foolish assumption that he could get drunk as one of the biggest targets in the universe. And he was _family_ , with the way he had given Lotor was he had never experienced; compassion.

 

He was all of it, mixed into sapphire eyes and smooth brown skin. He was perfect for Lotor.

 

In the heat of the moment, Lotor couldn’t decide what to do. Unfortunately for him, the heat of the moment had also caused his disguise to slip. He watched as the boy’s face turned from confusion, to realisation, to disgust.

 

“ _YOU!”_

 

Lotor figured it was time to make his departure.

 

As he ran through the crowd, the alarms were blaring. Guns were firing. People were screaming.

 

But all he could see in his mind was those eyes, those beautiful sapphire eyes, that had looked at him with disgust, and with pity.

 

* * *

 

Lotor at first thought he would get over this encounter, but his feelings crept up on him, like the evening creeps upon the daylight.

 

Lotor caught himself watching recordings of Voltron’s battles, pausing to observe the Blue Paladin’s movements. There was one time when Voltron had snuck aboard a Galran ship, and guards had failed to apprehend them. Lotor was angrier than he expected himself to be. He told himself that it was because they had all managed to escape his clutches. Not just one of them.

 

His anger came even further when he learned of the relationship between Lance and the Red Paladin. He had seen it in one of their “Voltron Shows”, seen Lance take the other’s hand, seen that scum of a being press his lips to Lance’s skin. It had felt like hot lead through his chest. He felt as though the boy had betrayed him, left him to be that mullet-rat’s whore.  Lotor’s quarters had been left in ruins by the end of that night.

 

He would think of the words they had spoken that night at the bar, saying them out loud, just to hear them once more. He would repeat the boy’s name, _Lance,_ tasting it on his tongue. He would remember the way Lance had danced, the way he had writhed his body, tenderly held out his arms, creating an aura of such sin and purity that it was intoxicating. Lotor would reach into the empty air, grasping at the hope to feel those arms, those hips, that skin. He would imagine what the boy would look like underneath him, how he would sound as Lotor touched him, how his mouth would tremble as he came undone and….and he would feel fury. Fury that he could not touch Lance that way. Fury that the Red Paladin could. Fury, that someone so insignificant, so weak and tiny as the Blue Paladin, would make _him_ , the _Emperor_ , feel this way, how he was able to affect Lotor so dearly and not expect consequences for it.

 

It was when Lotor kept requesting whores, whores with brown skin and blue eyes that his Generals and Haggar had begun to notice something. He heard their whispers, accusing him of being distracted, of madness. He heard in meetings that something had to change, or he would be unfit to be Emperor. 

 

Lotor had dealt with those who spoke of the latter. But they were right. Something needed to be done.

 

It had taken months of careful planning, of staging attacks so the Paladins would never realize what Lotor’s true goal was. He knew how overprotective Voltron could be, he wanted to make sure he could get Lance alone.

 

It had been rather easy once it got to that point, to subdue the boy. Lance had put up a fight of course, but Lotor was clearly superior. An insignificant thing like him could pose no threat.

 

The tricky part had been avoiding the attacks by the other Paladins once they had realized Lance’s situation. The Red Paladin had charged towards them as Sentries loaded Lance onto his ship, and Lotor had been so tempted, his hand itching to grab his sword and run it through that abomination’s stomach. But there was no time. The ship had to take off.

 

The other hard part had been leaving Lance alone in his cell for what was now the fifth quintent. Lotor wanted to see him, to touch or to threaten (he wasn’t sure yet) but he had to be patient. He needed Lance in a state of isolation, of confusion. Perhaps then he would be a little more open with Lotor.

 

His generals, and of course, Haggar, were still not happy, wanting Lotor to simply interrogate Lance and then kill him. That witch would use any excuse to scorn Lotor, as if he was a child, and not the ruler of the entire Galran Empire.

 

“He’ll lead you astray,” she snarled at him, “this distraction of yours will do no good except keep you from your work as Emperor, and once your fascination with your new toy wears off, you’ll be left with the consequences.”

 

But Lance would not lead him astray; he may be a distraction, but the Blue Paladin was not smart enough to control Lotor. Lotor had proven that; Lance was now on his ship, subject to his whims. Which was far better than killing him. Having the Blue Paladin’s death on his hands would only have led to overthinking of what could have been.

 

No, no, it was much better to have him here, as a slight distraction, which could eventually bloom into a true companionship. His Generals had protested but in the end, they had no say over him. He was the Emperor.

 

The Blue Paladin too was predictably resistant. But Lotor knew he would one day change his tune. How could he not, after he had expressed his true feelings about Lotor?

 

With those few words, Lance had (perhaps unconsciously) offered himself to Lotor, and Lotor would make sure that Lance stood by his word.

 

Lance had dug his grave, now he must lie in it.

 

Lotor supposed that the Red Paladin had a lot to do with Lance’s defiance. Lotor wasn’t stupid, he knew what feelings could do to a person. He knew that Lance would act irrationally for the Red Paladin as he acted irrationally for Lance. But it certainly hadn’t helped, and hearing Lance shout the Red Paladin’s name as he’d been dragged onto Lotor’s ship had been so irritating that he’d felt no pity for Lance as one of his sentries knocked him unconscious.

 

The Red Paladin was a dangerous distraction, and had been a thorn in his side for months.

 

But no matter, Lotor mused. It wasn’t like he was a problem anymore.

 

After all, the Red Paladin was dead.


	2. Footsteps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance reflects on his current and past situations.

“You’re so irritating.”

 

“Yep, it’s one of my many charms.”

 

“Can’t you be serious for one minute though!? Your life is in danger!” Keith sighed in exasperation.

 

Both of them were lounging in Lance’s room in the castle, laying on his bed, a brief moment of rest from the craziness of the past few weeks.

 

For some reason, Lotor had suddenly turned relentless, attacking one plant after the other in a never-ending chain. Voltron was doing the best they could, but even Shiro had begun to crack under the strain of fighting every moment of every day.

 

When they weren’t fighting, they were trying to figure out Lotor’s pattern, but it had never made any sense; his movements were too random. It was even impossible to figure out why Lotor was invading certain planets, some weren’t in any way useful to the Galran Empire. Allura had spent countless nights looking over maps, trying to plan any sort of strategy, but she just couldn’t predict what Lotor would do next.

 

There had always been one similar pattern though, and unfortunately, it concerned Lance. Due to what seemed like terrible luck, Lance had almost always nearly died or been captured in every battle they fought. Lance figured it was just because his fighting wasn’t up to par with the others. He didn’t know what the other Paladins considered the reason, but he knew that they were all concerned for him. Keith especially. Hence his outburst.

 

But the thing was, Lance knew this was serious. He knew his life was in danger. That’s why he was cracking jokes. It made everything less scary.

 

This moment between them was supposed to distract him from that, and it had been, it had been lovely at the beginning, when Lance was running his fingers through Keith’s hair, whose head was laying in Lance’s lap. But now…

 

“Well, if this is such a dangerous situation, why are you wasting time yelling at me?!” Lance scowled.

 

Keith made to say something, then decided to lay back in silence.

 

“Do you really think sulking at me is making me feel any better about my current problem!?” Lance pressed.

 

“No, I….ugh…just forget it.” Keith muttered, hiding his face from Lance.

 

“Well I can’t now, can I?” Lance pushed Keith’s head out of his lap.

 

“Argh, Lance, can’t you see that I’m worried about you!!” Keith exclaimed, and Lance could suddenly spot that tears were forming in his eyes. “ _Everyone’s_ worried about you! I keep thinking about something happening to you, and it keeps me awake at night, you know I can’t do this without you, and I can’t just listen to you crack jokes when-“

 

“Okay, Keith, okay!” Lance put his hands on Keith’s shoulders to calm his down. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

 

Keith closed his eyes, before leaning his head to Lance’s chest. “No…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have got angry. I just….why won’t the universe let you be safe, Lance?”

 

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith. “I know, but we’re a family. We’ll get through this together. Besides, you know I’ve always got you, buddy.”

 

“I know you do. I'm sorry I yelled.” 

 

"It's okay. No hard feelings."

 

Keith smiled, then looked hesitant. “Lance…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I…uhh…”

 

“What is it, Mullet?”

 

“I told you to stop calling me that!” Keith grinned through his tears.

 

“Haha, okay, okay, what?”

 

“Ummm…I think I might love you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Footsteps sounded past his cell.

 

It had been 7 quintents since he’d been locked in here. He’d lost the feeling in his arms and legs. Being chained to a wall would have that effect. The chains were too short to let him sit, too short to let him lay his hands by his side. But Lance was used to that by now. It seemed kinda stupid to him, if they were going to torture him (as he expected they would) then why wait until the majority of his body had gone numb?

 

Then again, Lance figured he should be grateful for that. But the question still plagued him. Why hadn’t they come in to torture him? In fact, why hadn’t they come in at all?

 

In 7 quintets, he’d only seen faceless guards come in for long enough to feed him (or rather, force feed him), but that was it. No one had spoken to him. No one had touched him. What gave?

 

He’d figured he’d have gotten this treatment if he’d been a run of the mill rebel, but he was a Paladin of Voltron! Maybe the weakest one, yes, but still a Paladin. Why hadn’t he been questioned yet? Did the Galra really think he didn’t know anything? Was he just being held for ransom and nothing more?

 

With little else to do (except try -repeatedly- and fail –repeatedly- to free himself from his chains) these questions ran amok in his head.

 

Footsteps sounded past his cell.

 

He wondered about the other Paladins. Were they looking for him? They must be. With Voltron, no one gets left behind. He just hoped he wasn’t causing that much trouble for them. He imagined Pidge hacking the lock to his cell door, or Hunk just barging in with his incredible strength, or Shiro cutting through his chains with his hand. Or Keith…

He wished he was with them now, chatting and goofing off. This isolation felt insidious. Lance knew it must have been some kind of tactic, but knowing didn’t stop it from working. Lance was a social butterfly, he needed someone to talk to. But of course he wouldn’t let anyone here know that. Imagine how pathetic that would be, Paladin defeated by a lack of conversation. No, Lance knew even he was stronger than that.

 

It was important to stay strong in the mind, as his chained body had practically given up on him. But the blank walls, the silence, that was something he just couldn’t get used to, unlike the numb feeling in his body. He needed some distraction, anything, to stop him from thinking about-

 

No. Don’t think about it. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Keith couldn’t be dead.

 

He’d seen him run through fire, defeat druids, avoid heavy gunfire. He survived being the team’s samurai, survived being Lance’s boyfriend. Keith couldn’t have been taken out so easily. He wasn’t weak like lance was.

 

Footsteps sounded past his cell.

 

While it pained him to think of his friends and his family, it was better to hold onto them, to keep some semblance of sanity. Staring at the walls in dim purple lighting, and hearing only the occasional footsteps walk past his cell would do little to keep his mind clear. But with Keith…

 

It was as if his body wouldn’t let him grieve. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful for that or not. But he knew one thing; he feared what he would become if he acknowledged it was true.

 

He remembered how he had felt after his Grandpa died. He had never thought one person could feel so much pain all at once. His heart felt like it was tearing itself apart, the same way he had torn his own room apart in grief before hiding under his bed covers to cry.

 

And he remembered his mom coming in with a plate of garlic knots, and stroking back his hair as he sobbed, while she told him about all the mischief his Grandpa would be making up in heaven. While the pain lasted months, his mom had made it go away for a moment.

 

But she wasn’t here now. Maybe thinking of his family wasn’t helping.

 

He had to think of some way out of here. But so far he had no plans. Figures, Lance chided himself, as he was stupid enough to get captured in the first place.

 

* * *

 

“Pidge, look out!” Pidge ducked in cover just in time for Lance to fire at the bomb that had been thrown her way. He watched it explode in the air before checking if she was okay.

 

“Thanks Lance, I owe you one!” She said, standing up and getting back into fighting position. It wasn’t long before she had to duck again.

 

This battle had turned into chaos, bombs were being thrown everywhere, shots were coming from every direction, everyone was constantly yelling, and Lance didn’t know where anyone else was besides Pidge.

 

“Where is everyone?” Lance cried out.

 

Shiro, ever the great leader, seemed to telepathically pick up on his frustration from wherever he was on this dustbowl of a plant, and spoke into the comms, “Paladins, report!”

 

“I’d say I’m in a huge dust cloud, but I doubt that’d be much help!” Hunk’s voice replied.

 

“We can’t see any of you from within the castle!” Lance heard Allura say, “Just stay strong, Paladins, we’re coming to aid you.”

 

Keith’s voice rang out, “Lance, where are you?”

 

“Not dead, if that’s what you mean. Me and Pidge are in the same situation, we have no quiznacking clue what’s going on!”

 

“Language!” Coran protested.

 

“Now isn’t exactly the time for a manners lesson, Coran!” Said Shiro.

 

“Lance, I’m coming to find you.” Said Keith.

 

“Don’t worry Keith,” joked Pidge, “I’ve got Lances back, or at least I would if we didn’t have a million bombs being thrown at us-”

 

“LANCE I’M COMING TO FIND YOU!”

 

“Keith can’t take a joke, can he?” Said Lance, and Pidge smirked.

 

Their joke was about to come to an end however, when a bomb appeared from the smoke, rolling to their feet.

 

Neither of them had time to react before it detonated.

 

Lance was thrown several feet in one direction, Pidge in the other. Lance would have immediately ran to find Pidge, if the explosion hadn’t completely dazed him. At least he was still alive, but he could barely see from the smoke, he couldn’t hear anything but a high-pitched noise, his helmet was cracked, his comms busted, and his bayard had disappeared. Things couldn’t have been worse.

 

The universe apparently enjoyed his suffering, because things did in fact, get worse.

 

What seemed like dozens of sentries swarmed around him in an instant. Without his bayard, all he could resort to was kicking and thrashing, which held them off for a few moments, but in his dazed state they easily over powered him.

 

He felt himself being dragged into a ship, and shoved towards-

 

No…it couldn’t be…

 

Lotor towered over his kneeling form, his figure just as daunting as his facial expression. Lance was still so dazed he couldn’t make out what a sentry said to Lotor, or what Lotor said in return. Everything was hazy. Lotor looked Lance up and down, and Lance was frozen momentarily in fear, before a familiar voice broke him out of it.

 

“Lance! LANCE!” It was Keith, running towards the ship, his sword held steady and murder in his eyes.

 

“KEITH! **KEITH HELP!!!** ” Lance cried, snapping out of his dazed state just enough to stand up, before he was grabbed from behind.

 

“LANCE I’M COMING!” Keith was on the loading dock.

 

“We have his Lion, prepare for take-off,” Ordered Lotor to his guards, “and deal with that nuisance.”

 

“KEITH!” Lance cried, struggling with all the strength he could muster.

 

Lotor’s face scowled, “And shut him up.”

 

“LANCE **NO**!”

 

Everything happened in an instant. A bomb was fired. The barrel of a gun was brought down on his head. But not before he saw the bomb hit Keith head-on, at close range. He’d seen the smoke. Seen the blood. Seen the fallen bayard.

 

Then had seen nothing but black.

* * *

 

 

And then he had woken up here. Stripped down to his black jumpsuit. Bayard still missing. Wondering if Keith was truly dead.

 

Because he hadn’t said it back. There’d been no time to say it back. Keith had told him that he loved him, and Lance hadn’t said it back yet.

 

He needed to stop thinking about Keith. Why hadn’t Lotor come in to interrogate him yet? Lance was almost wishing he would, just to get it over with.

 

Lance didn’t fully understand why Lotor had chosen to have his soldiers storm him. Why not the others? He was certainly glad that none of the others had been captured (after hearing about it from one loose-lipped guard, who hadn’t returned afterwards), but there was something about the way Lotor had looked at him before Lance was knocked out. For the life of him he couldn’t understand what that look meant, but it had deeply unnerved him.

 

Footsteps sounded towards his cell.

 

It was a similar look that he had given Lance at the bar, where they had met that one distant night. How embarrassing that had been, after the initial shock of realising it was Lotor. Flirting with the enemy! Not only that, but he’d droned on about how he felt sorry for Lotor right in front of him. And he had blushed when Lotor flirted back. The thought made his skin crawl now. Was that why Lotor had him chained up here?  He hadn’t lied about feeling sorry for him, but that didn’t excuse how much of a monster he was.

 

He hoped the other paladins were close. He could feel the blue lion, she was somewhere in the ship, but there was something blocking their connection. Perhaps it had something to do with that witch, Haggar. That had crushed his hopes of blue coming to help him escape.

 

Footsteps sounded towards his cell.

 

But he needed some sort of escape plan himself. If so, he needed someone to undo his chains, to open that door.

 

Footsteps stopped.

 

As if someone from above had been listening, the door to his cell suddenly opened.

 

And to Lance’s disgust, it was him. The man who he’d made the mistake of feeling sorry for.

 

“Hello, Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm super sorry, this chapter came out way later than I wanted it to. These past two weeks have been crazy busy, but I'm back, and the next chapter should be coming out sooner (hopefully haha)
> 
> These first two chapters have been mainly about setting stuff up. The next chapter is where the story really begins ;)


	3. The Silent Treatment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Lotor talk. I'm afraid it isn't a meet-cute.

Should he speak to Lotor, or not?

 

“When most people say hello, Blue Paladin, they expect the same said back to them.”

 

He wanted to speak, after so long stuck in silence. But he wasn’t sure what to say. Should he yell profanities, should he be sarcastic, should he be stoic and silent? He imagined the others would have been. This was his first proper meeting with Lotor, no disguises, no battlefields. The last freedom he had was choosing what to say. He didn’t want to let the other Paladins down.

 

It didn’t help that he was so afraid. He wasn’t even able to look at Lotor properly, instead looking to the wall next to him, only glancing at Lotor from the corner of his eye.

 

That fear came from Lotor’s silhouetted form, which was standing in the doorway. He looked the same as always, standing tall the way only an Emperor could, with his white (annoyingly smooth and flowy) hair. He seemed a bit more disgustingly smug, given the current situation. Behind him, Lance could spot at least two Guards in the doorway, turned away from him. So, only three people to get past if he wanted to run away. Why did that feel so much more difficult than it sounded?

 

“The silent treatment, huh?” Said Lotor, in a calm voice that didn’t match the disappointed look on his face. “I wouldn’t have expected that from the likes of you.” The silent treatment it was then. If it pissed off Lotor, then Lance needed this little victory. Even if it would cost him.

 

“You know,” Lotor stated, “there are always ways of making you talk.”Lotor strode across the room in two easy steps, to where he was just over a foot away from Lance. Okay, Lance thought, this distance is manageable, as long as he doesn’t come any closer.

 

“I hope the chains haven’t made you too uncomfortable.” Said Lotor, in a voice that very much suggested that he definitely did hope for that. Lance said nothing. Just keep staring at the wall, he thought. Be stoic. Be cool, like Shiro.

 

Lotor sighed, then stepped closer. Lance tensed up before he could stop himself, causing his chains to rattle. Lotor, noticing this, looked lance up and down in curiosity, then took one small step towards him.

 

Lance managed to stop his body from reacting, but his face still twitched.

 

Lotor let out a little laugh, “Hah, perhaps you don’t like it when I step closer? I wonder why could that be?” Shit, why couldn’t Lotor just torture him already? But judging from their previous battles, Lance had an inkling of Lotor’s style. On that gas planet, he’d taken their strategies and turned it against them. Gotten them all separated and lost before he attacked. Lotor was not the shoot-first-questions-later kind of guy. He was much more into mind games. Lance hated that. But still, if he wasn’t killing him, that would give Lance more opportunity to escape.

 

Lotor stepped closer. “If you want me to stay away, I suggest you talk.”

 

Lance said nothing. Lotor stepped closer. Even without looking at him, he could sense that Lotor was getting impatient.

 

“You were much more talkative in that bar. I adored the little chat we had.”

 

Dammit. Lance was hoping Lotor wouldn’t mention the bar.

 

“Do you know how easily I could have taken you down then? I didn’t think even you could be that stupid.” Lance frowned involuntarily. He hated people calling him stupid. Even though he was thinking the same thing. How could he have let his guard down so easily there?

 

“But I wanted to thank you for giving me so much information on your family. You sure loved to talk excessively about them.” Lotor took another step forward, and Lance felt the hairs on his neck stand up. No. Lotor couldn’t be going where Lance thought he was going. Why was Lotor was going so far to make him talk, when he hadn’t even asked any questions about Voltron yet? Was this really over him not saying hello?

 

“You know, if you don’t want to talk more about things, I could just ask them instead-”

 

“Shut up.” The sound of his voice even surprised himself. It had come out automatically, and he really wished it hadn’t. Now Lotor knew that was a sensitive topic.

 

Lotor stood still for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said patronisingly, “I didn’t quite hear that?”

 

Well, quiznack. He’d already spoken, might as well keep going. “I said shut up, before I rip that hair out of your scalp.” Snarled Lance, trying his best to keep his voice steady. He finally looked at Lotor. Quiznack. He was even closer than Lance had anticipated. Lotor’s expression at first was quite a shock, in contrast to his relatively calm voice his face had been twisted into a dark fury, but changed so quickly that Lance questioned that he’d even spotted that.

 

Now Lotor’s face was smiling, and he almost laughed, seemingly shocked that Lance would be making such threats in his position. “If you want to do that, I guess I’ll have to step closer, won’t I?” He made the final step towards Lance. He was too close. Lotor’s face was way too close to his. It was if he was studying him. He wasn’t even touching him and yet Lance felt smothered, Lotor’s body covering every way he could look. He wished he hadn’t made eye contact; Lotor’s eyes just felt like another cage around him. Lance tried to keep his breathing steady. He couldn’t show any fear. He couldn’t. He could handle this.

 

Lotor looked down at him, with another expression Lance couldn’t pinpoint. “Are you afraid?” He asked, softly, practically breathing on Lance’s face.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Lance hoped the crack in his voice was only audible to himself. What game was Lotor playing? Lance was just thankful none of the other Paladins had been caught, if this was the way Lotor interrogated prisoners. In any case, Lance was done with this. “What is it you want? Information? Begging? There’s nothing I’m going to give you. I won’t tell you anything.”

 

Lotor paused, almost if he had forgotten why he was there in the first place. Then again, he was back to that lazy smile. He was still too close, Lance could feel the rise and fall of his chest on his. “Of course you won’t, brave Paladin of Voltron. I know none of you would do such a thing. That’s not why I’m here.”

 

“Then why are you here?” Lance couldn’t stop himself from asking the question that had plagued him for too long, even if he dreaded the answer.

 

“I just wanted to have a conversation with you. It’s not every day I get to talk with a Paladin.”

 

“Well if you wanted to talk, you could have just sent me a message. The castle has great reception.” God, why was he joking at a time like this? He needed to do something to get Lotor away from him, but with his arms and legs chained he couldn’t lash out. “Though, I would have definitely ignored your creepy ass-”

 

A sharp jolt ripped through his arm before he realised that Lotor had twisted it further than it should have been possible to bend. Even the numbness in his limbs couldn’t mask the pain, and he hunched over as much as the chains would allow. Shit, was Lotor going to break his arm? It felt like it would snap at any moment. Lance couldn’t prevent the cry that escaped his lips. He looked up at Lotor, whose face was filled with annoyance, but also a sliver of fascination. As if he had never seen anyone in pain before. What was with this guy?

 

“I may not be here to hurt you, but I still don’t condone that kind of talk. I am the Emperor after all. And we’d been speaking so civilly beforehand.”

 

“I think you and I have a different idea of what “civil” means.” Lance spoke through gritted teeth, eyes shut and head facing the ground, trying to breathe through the pain.

 

“Perhaps we do.” Lotor mused, as he let go of Lance’s arm. Lance breathed at the relief in his limbs before he made to rise to his original position. But before he could, Lotor’s hand rested on his head. Lance instinctively froze, waiting for Lotor to hit him or something else more violent. But he didn’t. Instead, Lotor moved his fingers through Lance’s hair. Was….was Lotor _petting him_? Like a dog? It was soft, gentle, but felt far more awful than when he had been violent. And his fingers lingered there a little too long. “I hope we can continue this talk later, but first…” Lotor frowned, “there is something that must be done first.”

 

At his words, a figure appeared in the doorway. As if caught doing something wrong, Lotor quickly yanked Lance upright by his hair, causing another cry from him. Blinking away the watering of his eyes, Lance saw who it was. The cloak, the markings. The glowing yellow eyes. It was her. This was the woman who gave even Shiro nightmares. Haggar.

 

She stood silently for a moment, staring at the two of them with icy cold glance. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” she muttered.

 

Lotor stepped towards her, who was still stood in the doorway. “Of course not, Witch, Lance and I were just getting acquainted, weren’t we?” Said Lotor. Lance reverted back to his original idea of staying silent, just glad that Lotor had backed off.

 

“You don’t appear to have hurt him much. I was figuring the Paladins deserved a little rougher treatment.” She said, glaring at Lance. Her stare felt like it could pierce right through him.

 

Lotor just shrugged. “We can’t go overboard Haggar, I don’t want to frighten the poor thing. Not yet anyway, he’ll need all the courage he has for what comes next.” Lance would have been offended at being called “poor thing”, but was far more concerned with “what comes next”.

 

Haggar nodded and then turned to the two Guards at the door. “Undo his chains.” She ordered.

 

Holy quiznack, they were about to undo his chains. Lance had been waiting for this moment for so long. He had already set up a plan during the long vargas in his cell; to drive his knee into the guy who unchained him, and then…well…..run for it. It was a work in progress plan.

 

But now with Lotor and Haggar in the room, he was very unsure he could do it. Should he try anyway? There was very little time to decide, and as his chains were removed, it was as if a tension had filled the air. Were they expecting him to make a run for it? Shit, what should he do what should he do what should he do-

 

With the last chain removed and the Guards moving to grab him, holding out handcuffs, Lance’s survival instincts made the choice for him. He rammed his knee into the Guard’s stomach, hard enough to wind him even through the armour, and ran.

 

Haggar was still in the doorway, and way too powerful for him to fight right now, but physically she didn’t seem very tough, Lance was sure if he was quick enough he could barrel past her before she could reac-

 

He hadn’t even reached her, before a hand grabbed the back of his neck and swung him around, slamming him face first into the cell wall. He had barely made it 5 steps before Lotor had stopped him. Lance whimpered as hard metal was pressed into his cheek and Lotor’s fingers squeezed hard enough to bruise, making it incredibly hard to breathe, and the pain temporarily dazed him, long enough for the Guards to grab his arms.

 

“He really is foolish, isn’t he?” Haggar commented, as the Guards securely locked the cuffs on Lance. They scuttled away quickly, as if afraid Lotor would be angry at their inability to prevent Lance’s escape attempt. Lotor must have been feeling something, as he didn’t reply to Haggar, he only pulled Lance away from the wall and led him outside of his cell. The force with which he pushed him frightened Lance, and he found that his legs simply did what Lotor wanted. Now that he was surrounded at all sides by his enemies, Lance figured it was best not to try again, especially after Haggar snarled, “You will pay for that later Paladin.”

 

Walking through the ship in silence, Lance came to realise that even if he had made it past everyone in the cell, he definitely wouldn’t have gotten very far in this place. It was like a labyrinth: never ending, purple lit corridors, and high ceilings that all looked the same, with Guards posted at almost every door. He desperately tried to memorise the route, something Shiro told him to do, but they were moving too fast, he needed more time to figure out the floor plan. How he would be able to do that from a cell, he’d have to deal with later. He didn’t know how anyone could navigate anywhere, but everyone else in the group seemed to walk with a shared purpose and direction, Haggar walking in front, the two Guards pointing their guns at the left and right of Lance, and Lotor still pushing him from behind.

 

Guards didn’t move as they passed, only staring at Lance in the corner of their eye. Lance noticed one guard, with a triangular shaped scar on his cheek, seemed to stare for a long while. But Lance had no time to dwell on that, as they finally reached their destination.

 

It was a type of room which Voltron had seen a lot of in their battles; an experimentation room, where the Druids really loved to hang out. There was a large screen on wall, pipes filled with liquid, lots of wiring, and Druids looming in every corner. But Lance was focused on the chair in the centre, built in a jagged metal structure, with straps and wires encasing it. And after Haggar’s threat, it very much seemed like a chair with his name on it.

 

As if sensing his desire to run again, Lotor’s hand around his neck tightened. A warning.

 

He was led to the chair and pushed down into it, Lotor looming above him as the Guards strapped his wrists to the arms on the chair. “I’m guessing this isn’t a massage chair, haha?” said Lance nervously.

 

Lotor cocked his head, as if wondering whether he should humour Lance. “Let’s call it an educational chair. Consider this a lesson, Lance.” He said, “I’m not the worst thing you can encounter here.”

 

“But-“

 

“Save your voice, Paladin.” Said Haggar, making her way towards him. She reached out as if to touch his face, but Lotor gave her a look, and she quickly pulled back.

 

Haggar sighed. “Lotor, you-”

 

“Know your place Witch.”

 

“Lotor, this is necessary, you know that. This is what’s best for the Empire. You know Zarkon would-”

 

“As my father is dead, what is best for the Empire is what I order you to do. I’ve let you have this time at a detriment to my own plans, so you should be acting grateful, Witch.”

 

Lance was caught in the middle of this discussion, and it was interesting to him that Lotor seemed to be very indifferent to his father’s death, and that he referred to Haggar as Witch. They must not be very fond of each other.  That would be valuable insight to tell Voltron, if he ever saw them again. And what plans was Lotor talking about? But now that wires were being attached to him by Druids, he figured he had much bigger problems to deal with. This very much seemed like an interrogation. What the hell were they gonna do to him?!?

 

More wires, one after the other, were strapped to his skin. Lance felt his terror appear in full force now, as he truly realized the situation he was in.

 

“Look, there’s no point to this! I don’t have anything to tell you, you're just wasting whatever torture stuff you’re gonna use on me!” Lance hated this, he wanted to be brave and stoic, but he was panicking. And when he panicked, his mouth ran.

 

“Quiznack, there’s nothing I can tell you if I don’t know where Voltron is! I don’t even know if they made it off the planet in okay condition!!”

 

Haggar smiled at him, but it was cold and empty, and made Lance’s blood run colder than if she had seemed angry. She nodded to a sentry, who began pushing some buttons, and the large screen on the wall lit up.

 

“Oh, trust me child, you’ll see how they are very soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, what will happen to Lance?!? Will he realize what Lotor's true intentions are before it's too late?!
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter! I tried switching between exposition and Lance's panicked thoughts a lot, I hope that came across okay in my writing and it wasn't too awkward to read.
> 
> The next chapter is gonna be a little shorter (I think haha) so I may get it out sooner, fingers crossed!


	4. Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Paladins deal with the loss of their teammates, whilst they wait for Lotor's next move.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can. I promise we will help you and your people.”

“Thank you, Princess Allura. We know Voltron will save us.”

Allura ended the transmission with Candel, a ruler of a distant water planet. She wandered over to the centre of the room, and pulled up a holographic map of its galaxy. She couldn’t force herself to study long enough, until she rubbed her forehead, and sighed. Candel expected Voltron to save their planet. Allura hadn’t mentioned that Voltron was missing two Paladins.

You would have guessed that Voltron had lost all of its Paladins, based on how little Allura had seen of the others. But that was to be expected. She almost preferred that, because the pain became far too obvious when they were all together.

The sombre air was strong enough on its own; it floated through the castle’s rooms like a poisonous gas. It was palpable, obvious without words, and was strongest in the corridors of Keith and Lance’s rooms. No one had the courage to battle through it; no one had ventured into the rooms of the lost Paladins.

The Paladins all seemed to remain in their own rooms. Hunk had been in his for days. He hadn’t even ventured out into the kitchen, his culinary skills untouched. But that was understandable. Hunk was inconsolable. Allura knew how close he was with Lance, they’d been best friends, the legs of Voltron together. Both of them had been the friendliest and most cheerful of the team, it seemed fitting that when one fell, the other did too.

Pidge, she was surprised by. She hadn’t realised how much they cared about Lance. Pidge had often seemed annoyed by him, poking fun at every opportunity. But now Allura realised that this must have been because Pidge saw him as an older brother. And as she had reacted to Matt’s capture, so she did with Lance’s. Pidge spent hours in their room, attempting to hack into Galran systems, trying to find any leeway of getting Lance back. This gave Allura a chance to check on Pidge, claiming it was to check if Pidge had made any hacking progress, but there was no luck. Pidge’s attempts would either end in them collapsing from exhaustion, or screaming at the computer, tears in her eyes. Allura didn’t know how to console Pidge. While grief was common among all species, human grief she was not confidently equipped for.

Shiro of course was of course upset about Lance, admitting to the Princess that he had failed someone who he was supposed to protect, and helping her with any evidence of Lance’s location, but he was of little use; being so absent-minded. Allura knew what his main source of pain was.

 

* * *

 

Allura had been prevented from landing on the planet as early as she would have liked, but eventually the ship was able to ground itself. Allura was incredibly worried, things had sounded awful through the coms. No one had any idea where they were, and Lance and Keith had done nothing but yell each other’s names. Allura didn’t know what had happened, but from the franticness in their voices, it couldn’t be good.

And for some reason, even though the Galran ships had left, brushing past the Castle of Lions casually, the Paladins had refused to board their lions and fly back to her. Something must have happened, and Allura dreaded to think.

At first it was a struggle to find them, even though the castle had given her a lock on all of the Paladin’s locations, the dust within the planet’s atmosphere was thick and difficult to navigate. The wind occasionally knocked her sideways, but with her physical strength she was able to keep standing. Thankfully she had Coran talking in her ear, guiding her towards the Paladins. When she finally made it to their positions, the dust clearing slightly, it was not what she expected to see.

Shiro was clinging onto Pidge, holding her up above the ground, and it seemed like Pidge was attempting to run through the air. As Allura got closer, she understood that Pidge was desperately trying to escape Shiro’s grip.

“We have to go after them!” She cried, “Shiro, let go of me! We have to save him!” She finally swung her arm back, elbowing Shiro in the jaw, causing him to drop her. She fell to the ground with a grunt, quickly getting back up and frantically looking around; Allura assumed she must have been looking for the Green Lion.

“We have to come up with a plan, Pidge! We can’t just go charging in or we won’t be of any help to Lance!” Shiro said.

“The longer we stay and plan the further away Lance gets! We have to go now!” Allura couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Lance was gone?

“No Pidge, we have to stay here!” Said Shiro, jolting Allura from her thoughts, “We have to…we have to-“

“You want to stay and find Keith’s body.” Hunk said. He’d been quiet for a while, looking down to the ground solemnly, but now he’d said the one thing they were all dreading to hear.

“Keith’s…b-body?” Said Allura, but no one paid her any attention, too caught up in their own emotions.

Shiro sighed, then nodded. “We have to find him, before the dust buries him. He may have been blown away by the blast, but he could still be alive. We _have_ to find him.”

“But what about Lance? Don’t you care that he’s now stuck with as a Galran prisoner? I would have thought that _you_ of all people would care!” Yelled Pidge.

“Pidge!” Said Shiro, looking hurt. Pidge immediately looked guilty, regretting what she had said.

“I’m sorry, but please, we can’t stay here, we have to-“

“Pidge, please,” began Hunk quietly. Allura couldn’t read his expression. He brought up a scanner from his arm, “Let’s scan the area.”

The others looked to each other in silence, unsure of what to do. Pidge growled, but followed Hunk, and eventually the rest of them got to work.

By the end of the first day, once the arguing was done, they had already finished looking around the immediate area, using whatever equipment they had on their armor. Shiro had resorted to using his hand to dig through the sandy ground. There was nothing.

By the second day, they were using their lions, blowing away the dust with blasters, along with the Castle of Lion’s scanners. There was nothing.

On the third day, they knew they would never find Keith. They knew they would never be able to bury him themselves.

It was the first time Allura had ever seen Shiro sob.

 

* * *

 

 

Allura was surprised by how Shiro had been able to contain himself since his initial outburst on that planet. Allura knew how close he and Keith were, she imagined the pain was similar to how she felt about her parent’s death. It must be indescribable for him.

Pidge and Hunk were grief-stricken as well by Keith’s death. They’d cried when the team reached the Red Lion, hit even harder by emotion when the Lion had called out, pitifully and demandingly. She wanted to know where her Paladin was. They'd never found the Blue Lion.

Even when they returned to the castle, they didn’t know what to do. What would be their plan of action? They were only just getting accustomed to Lotor’s style of battle, ergo they had little idea of how to retaliate.

But strangely enough, Lotor hadn’t reached out to them about the recent turn of events. The Galra hadn’t broadcast anything. No show had been made about the loss of two Paladins. Should they also keep up the charade? On the one hand, it would help keep faith in Voltron; would prevent the team’s loss from damaging the symbol they’d worked so hard to create. But on the other hand, it was suspicious. If Lotor hadn’t done anything yet, it meant he was planning something big.

Allura wasn’t sure how she felt in her current situation. She cared strongly for Lance and Keith, sure, they could be tiresome but they were becoming a proper team, and yet she couldn’t figure out the pain she was feeling. Perhaps she was in shock, or in denial, as she kept herself from thinking too much about her emotions, keeping herself busy, contacting nearby planets and leaders. She was thankful for that, at least. She needed to be a symbol of security, of strength. Like her Father.

But there was now the pressing matter with Candel that worried her. She needed to discuss this recent agreement she had made. She needed to discuss it with them all.

“Paladins, please join me in the central room.” She spoke over the coms, and waited.

One by one they all came in. Everyone was silent, but their expressions spoke volumes. Pidge’s eyes we dark and sunken, they must not have slept for ages. Hunk was quiet, and kept sniffing. Shiro tried to keep his head up high, giving a respectful nod to the Princess, but there was a twitch to his eyes. Coran came in last, giving Allura a soft smile as he stood beside her.

Allura took a deep breath, and then began, “Paladins, this past week has been indescribably tough for us. I can’t begin to understand how you all must be feeling. I know it is awful of me to ask this of you…but I need you all to momentarily put your grief behind you.”

All of the Paladin’s heads tilted. She couldn’t tell what they were thinking.

“Candel, a ruler of a nearby water planet, needs assistance. They help with gaining supplies for the resistance, however the Galra keep attacking their cargo ships. We need to step away from our own feelings and do what is best for the Galaxy. Tomorrow, we have to go there and use the Lions to provide them with protection. I need you to do that.”

When she had finished, and lowered the holograms she had used for the briefing, there was silence. Allura felt as if she was awaiting her own execution. The silence was agonizing.

Until it was broken. “I’m sorry, but are you kidding me?!” Exclaimed Hunk. Allura was surprised, she never expected that Hunk was capable of looking so angry. “You’re really just gonna send us on this mission, and act like there’s nothing wrong?!”

“Of course not, Hunk. I know this is hard for you, but we have to focus on what’s best for the Universe-“

“Well, in that case, screw Lance, right?” Pidge piped in. “It’s not like you ever cared.”

“Yeah, did you tell this Candel guy that we’re not _equipped_ for this mission? You know, like you said earlier that we weren’t _equipped_ to get Lance back yet?”

“I…I didn't’ tell him that Lance-“

“Of course you didn’t!” Said Pidge, “and I bet you didn’t tell him about Keith either!”

Allura was getting annoyed with all of these accusations. Didn’t they realise she was upset as well? “I’m just trying to do my best, Pidge, and Hunk, I know how hard it is-“

“You know how hard it is to lose a father, not a brother.”

“I’ve already lost one…” Pidge began, looking as if she was about to start openly weeping. “I-I can’t just keep doing this when...I've already lost one!”

“Pidge, Hunk, please calm down.” Shiro reprimanded, but Allura could tell that his heart just wasn’t in it. Grief had made him too tired for arguing.

But Pidge clearly wasn’t. “How can you expect us to just keep going after this? Do you just assume we’re robots, ready to do your bidding no matter if any of us die or not? Are we that replaceable to you!”

“How dare you!" Allura creid, tears forming in her eyes, "I would never say that! But if you are so quick to anger for personal reasons, Pidge, then maybe you shouldn’t be part of-”

“Paladins, Princess, please!” Cried out Coran, stopping everyone in their tracks. “I know we are all in pain from what has happened, but please, fighting won’t solve this!” He looked down sadly, “I miss number 3 and 4 terribly too. But I can’t bear to watch all of you yell at each other.”

The Paladins and Allura all looked solemnly away from each other, each focusing on a different spot in the room. They knew Coran was right, but didn’t want to admit it. But before they could discuss anything further, a transmission request appeared on the screen. It was the Galra.

The Paladins had been prepared for this moment, and yet were still panicked. There was chaos as everyone rushed to shut down holograms, put away technology, hide anything that could allude to Voltron’s future plans.

Once they were finally settled; everything safely hidden away, Allura accepted the call. They all unconsciously took a deep breathe together, bracing themselves for what was about to transpire. It was most likely Lotor, coming to gloat about his recent actions, or to strike up a hostage situation with Lance, who would be off in a cell somewhere.

The Paladins and Alteans gritted their teeth, refusing to let the Galra see any worry on their faces. Worry, however, appeared with little resistance once they saw who was on screen.

They’d expected to see Lotor. Not Lance, tied to a chair, crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember that time when I said I'd get a chapter out earlier than usual and it actually ended up being 3 weeks late? Yeah, me neither.
> 
> But yeah, I'm super sorry, these past weeks have been really hectic with exams and essays and shows, I have been thoroughly overworked, but now that things have calmed down I should get back to writing more regularly. Hopefully haha.
> 
> But I hope you like the chapter. Tbh, I'm not so proud of it, I think because it doesn't involve Lance or Lotor I suffered from a bit of writer's block and just wanted to rush it, but they'll be back in the next chapter, so look forward to that!
> 
> P.S Thank you so much for over 1000 hits! All of your comments and Kudos mean so much to me, they make writing feel so rewarding! Thank you!


	5. Under your skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To put it simply: Lance has a bad time.  
> TW:Torture

Lance was curious to what Haggar had meant, but the answer had become clear pretty soon. As soon as the screen in front of him had started to power up, there was a flash of purple light around him, and his limbs had been hit with an agonizing burning sensation. Lance couldn’t help but cry out, tears immediately forming in his eyes. The pain went deep under his skin, and when it finally ceased, it had felt like an eternity, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.

 

“And that, was only a test run,” said Haggar, looking at him both cruelly and dismissively, “the pain will continue to get worse.”

 

Lotor was still looking at Lance, but said nothing.

 

The screen finally flickered to life, and Lance gasped through his tears when he saw who was on screen. It was the other Paladins. Except for Keith of course, but he couldn’t think about that. Right now, he couldn’t tell whether seeing the others was a good thing or not. He was overjoyed to see they were okay, but he knew that the Galra wouldn’t have contacted them for any good reason.

 

“Lance!’ Cried Hunk, “Lance are you okay!? We’re so sorry that we-”

 

“Be quiet, Yellow one.” Said Haggar.

 

But surprisingly, Lotor piped in, “No no, Haggar, let them talk. It’s always nice to see a family reunion. Not that they’re Lance’s family anymore.” He turned to look at Allura, “And Princess Allura, it is a delight to see you as always.”

 

“Enough with the pleasantries, Lotor. They are obviously not needed when you have one of my Paladins tied to a torture device.” Lance admired Allura for how quick she was to shut Lotor down, but he could still see the fear in her eyes. Fear for him.

 

Coran offered a little comfort, “Lance, my boy, we hope you haven’t missed us too much! Are you…are you alright?”

 

Lance still couldn’t believe his eyes. It was all of them, looking completely fine, except for the terrified expressions on their faces. And from what he could see by her tearstained face, Pidge had been crying. Being the chatterbox he was though, he finally managed to get out some words, “Guys! I’m so glad you’re okay!”

 

“Never mind us, Lance!” Said Pidge, “Are you okay? Please, what has Lotor done to you?”

 

“He’s just been his usual self, really. As you can see by my situation, I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse.”

 

“I don’t really think now’s the time for jokes, Lance,” said Shiro, a look of concern on his face. “Where are you, you’re on the main ship, right? Is….is Keith with you? Is….is his body there?”

 

Lance was a bit put out by Shiro’s main concern being Keith, but also loving Keith immensely he understood. “I don’t kn-” he began, before Lotor cut him off.

 

“I figured you’d find the body on that desolate planet where we left it,” Lotor taunted, a sick smile on his face, “We thought you’d appreciating looking at the Red nuisance’s rotting corpse.”

 

“Shut the hell up.” Snarled Lance, surprising everyone. Lance glared up at Lotor through his tears. “You’re just jealous that he’d still look better than you.” He felt mean talking about Keith’s corpse like that, but he knew Keith would have appreciated the look on Lotor’s face. And no one taunted Keith and got away with it.

 

Apparently, the same rule went for Lotor as well, as Lotor made as if to smack him, but restrained himself, instead taking hold of an old rag on the table beside them and shoving it into Lance’s mouth. Lance spluttered, it tasted disgusting and the rough fabric made him cough, but he wasn’t able to spit it out.

 

“I think you’ve had enough talking for today.” Said Lotor.

 

“Leave Lance alone you Quiznack!” Cried Pidge.

 

“Yeah, give us Lance back!” Hunk demanded.

 

“I’ll bring your ship down with my bare hands!” Said Coran.

 

“What do you want Lotor?” Asked Allura, “Is this some kind of last resort, some desperate attempt to retaliate for us defeating the Emperor?”

 

“If you are referring to my late Father, rest assured that I am unaffected by the events. The Galran Empire will continue to stand strong, perhaps even more so now.”

 

Allura looked a little shocked, murmuring, “You mean, you don’t even care that-”

 

“Let’s move on with this little meeting, shall we?” Said Lotor, placing his hand on Lance’s shoulder. It made Lance’s skin crawl more than the torture had. “I think you gather what this situation will entail.”

 

“We can see what you’re going to do to him.” Said Allura, “If you think we’ll let you do what you did to that Blade member, then you-”

 

“Oh of course not princess, that traitor wasn’t nearly as important to me as the Blue Paladin is-Lance, rather, I should say, as he’s not a Paladin anymore.” God, Lance hated the way Lotor said his name. Would he just torture him already? Seeing his friends, Lance knew he would never tell Lotor anything, he couldn’t let them all down, not when they were looking at him with this much concern. He was just worried they would tell Lotor something. Pidge especially had a tendency for that. He remembered how she had let something slip when that Blade member was being tortured in front of them. It had been so horrific, that they had almost been thankful when Lotor killed them by the end of it. Why wasn’t Lotor going to the same to him? He had been so quick to reduce the Blade member to an insane mess, even though they’d had even more valuable information than Lance did. Why was Lotor apparently going to be more careful with him?

 

Lotor didn’t give him an answer though, as Haggar started talking. “Now, Voltron, we’re going to keep this simple. We’re going to ask you some questions, and for every wrong answer you give, the Blue Paladin will face the consequences.”

 

“We’re not telling you an-” Allura began, but was cut off by her own horror as Lance’s torture began.

 

* * *

 

They couldn’t tell how Lance must be feeling, but it was easy to guess from his muffled screams through the gag. The process of torture Lotor and Haggar had chosen looked awful, tubes seemed to be pumping liquid under Lance’s skin, which seemed painful enough to Lance that it turned his face a sickly green colour, and then electric currents through wires seemed to set the liquid ablaze.

 

Pidge buried her face in Hunk’s stomach, unable to watch, whilst Hunk closed his eyes, tears already forming in them. Coran looked terrified, and Allura and Shiro helplessly tried to think of ways to get Haggar to stop. Thankfully, she did after a few moments. Lance slumped forward, gasping as smoke rose from his body, whilst they all shouted to see if he was okay.

 

“First question, Paladins.” Said Haggar, “The Blue Lion has placed a shield around itself. How do we get into the Blue Lion?”

 

“We can’t tell you how-”

 

Lance received another shock, and his screaming resumed.

 

“HOW DO WE GET INTO THE BLUE LION?”

 

Another shock. Another scream.

 

“TELL US!”

 

Another shock. Another scream.

 

Pidge couldn’t take it, “Stop it you foul, evil _hag_!” She yelled, fresh tears running down her face.

 

“That isn’t an answer, Green Paladin!” Another shock. Another scream.

 

Allura and Shiro were looking frantically to each other. They didn’t know what to do. It was their duty to protect the Universe, which involved not letting the Galra know anything about Voltron, but it was also their duty to protect Lance. Shiro subtly motioned for Allura to join him off-screen, where they could quickly formulate a negotiation plan, but Lotor spotted them, and was not impressed.

 

“If you’re thinking of going behind our back during this call, that would be unwise.” He said. Another shock. Another scream.

 

“You won’t be able to open it; the Lion will only respond to Lance!” Hunk finally cried out. Everyone paused. Hunk had cracked. He looked to the other Paladins apologetically, but they understood.

 

“Is that so?” Said Lotor. He turned to Lance, moving one of his hand to the top of Lance’s head, the other removing the gag in his mouth. “Is that true, Lance?” The Paladins did not like how close Lotor was to Lance. They knew that if Keith were with them, he would have burst through the screen already and throttled Lotor.

 

Despite the obvious pain he was in, Lance still had some bite. “Yeah, see when someone has a close bond, they’ll open up to you. I guess you wouldn’t know that, considering that requires someone actually liking you.” His words weren’t as punchy as usual though; the torture had made his voice weak and tears were still fresh on his cheeks. Because of this, Lotor simply smiled at his retort, and patted his head. Another shock. Another scream, this one louder without the gag.

 

“Second question,” Said Haggar, “Which Galra soldiers are members of the Blade of Marmora?”

 

The Paladins paused at that. The Blade had been their most useful allies in this war, providing information no one other than the Galra could know. Letting Lotor and Haggar know of their identities would mean a massive blow to the rebellion. Shiro and Allura looked to each other in a panic. What should they do? If they didn’t say anything, things would get even worse for Lance. And how would Lance feel, thinking they didn’t care about his well-being if they let this continue?

 

That question, however, was answered immediately. “Don’t tell them.” Said Lance, wincing through the pain. “Don’t tell them anything. It’s not worth it.”

 

“But Lance, what about you!?” Said Pidge.

 

“Things are gonna suck for me whether you tell them or not. Don’t ruin the entire rebellion because of me.”

 

“That’s very noble of you, Lance,” said Lotor, “But it’s not up to you, it’s up to them.”

 

“Lance isn’t some pawn!” Yelled Coran.

 

“Of course he is, this is an interrogation after all.” Said Lotor. While they were speaking, Allura spotted a look Lance was giving her. She gazed into his eyes, they were as strong as steel even though it was obvious he was losing consciousness. She searched through the blue, trying to communicate the pain she felt for him. The dilemma they were facing. And when he gave her a small smile, it broke her heart. Because she knew what that meant. He had just told her that if she gave him up, if she kept the information secret and continued to let Lance be tortured, he would never hold it against her.

 

She knew what she had to say. “Lotor, we’ll only tell you the Blade Members If you give Lance back.” She couldn’t give Lance up, not when he was so willing to die for her.

 

“I’m afraid that’s not an option Princess. Lance will not be leaving this ship. Not now, not ever.”

 

“Not even for all of the Blade Member’s identities? For their locations?”

 

“There is nothing you could tell me that is worth giving back one of the Paladins of Voltron.”

 

The Paladins were shocked at that. Was Lotor really letting this opportunity pass him by? Even Haggar looked unsure. “Lotor, perhaps we should consider their offer-”

 

“This is not up for negotiation, Haggar.”

 

“But Lotor, think of what you are saying.”

 

Lotor glared at her. “Perhaps this situation has clouded your judgment. In that case, I think it’s time we end this.” He nodded for Haggar to give Lance one last shock, and the Paladins all winced in unison.

 

* * *

 

The pain had been beyond anything he’d ever experienced. It had been inescapable, there was no single inch of his body that hadn’t been in agony. It was as if he’d been on fire inside his own skin, but so much worse. It had pulsed through him, pulling back just slightly to prevent him from getting used to it before hitting him full force again. Was this the kind of torture that the Galra used on everyone? If so, this war had to end soon. It had been worse than he could ever have imagined.

 

The only thing he did know, was that once the grief of Keith’s death finally hit him, it would probably feel like this.

 

By this point it was all he could do to stay awake, his body exhausted with what it had gone through, sparks of pain still shooting through his muscles. He didn’t have the strength to lift his head up, focusing instead on looking at the ground, and listening to the voices around him.

 

“Well, this has certainly been fun paladins, but I think it’s time for Lance here to get his well-deserved rest. It’s time for this call to end.”

 

“Lotor, please listen to us, whatever it is you want, unless you give Lance back we can’t-”

 

“You just don’t get it, do you, Princess? I don’t want to waste my time discussing anything with someone as idiotic as you.”

 

“Just give us back Lance or…or we’ll-”

 

“Or you’ll do what, Yellow Paladin?”

 

“We’ll rain hellfire down on you.”

 

“Threats aren’t going to make me any nicer towards the Blue Paladin. You’ll do well to remember that,” Lotor leaned down to Lance, gently lifting his head, as if scared to hurt him despite his past actions, “Now, say goodbye, Lance. It’s going to be the last time you’ll ever see them,” he leaned in close to Lance’s ear, and Lance didn’t have the strength to flinch away, “Unless I’m showing you their dead bodies.”

 

Lance chose to ignore Lotor’s words, instead focusing his blurring vision on the screen. He had to see them all, he had to burn their image into his brain, for it could be his last chance. Shiro stood in his direct line of sight, a comforting pillar of strength.

 

“I’m sorry you guys,” sniffed Lance, “I’m so sorry I’m in this mess.”

 

“You’re not going to be in it for long.” Said Shiro, “We’re going to get you out, do you hear me? I promise you Lance, we’re going to get you out.”

 

Then they were gone. And so was he.

 

* * *

 

“You didn’t have to go that far, Haggar.” Snarled Lotor, looking down at Lance’s limp form. It was pathetic, but he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

 

“We had to make a point, Lotor,” argued Haggar, “If we went soft on the boy, we would lose all potential answers they had. Now we know we need him to open the Blue Lion. Interrogations don’t work if you-”

 

“Don’t lecture me, Witch! You had no right to make the bargains you made! You were ready to make him part of a deal, when I specifically told you that wasn’t an option.”

 

“Lotor, I-”

 

“Going against your Emperor counts as treason, Haggar. Are you prepared for the consequences of that?”

 

Haggar made as if to argue, but realising better, looked to the ground. “No, Lotor, I apologise.”

 

Lotor finally took his eyes off Lance, and looked to her, “My patience is running thin with you. But I have more pressing matters right now. Take him to the healing pods. We can’t have your actions messing up his pretty face.”

 

Haggar nodded, and with assistance from the druids, Lance was lifted from the chair and taken to the infirmary, leaving Lotor alone to think.

 

The discussion with the Paladins had been useful. They had given information that could provide assistance to him later, both with the war and with Lance. But now because of Haggar, Lotor would not be able to speak with him for a while.

 

The infirmary did have its positives. Lotor wondered whether he should ask Haggar and the Druids to infiltrate Lance’s mind a little, make him a bit more agreeable, but he figured not yet. He would test the waters first. It was always there as a last resort.

 

But he was impatient for the healing process to be over. It was time he and Lance had a proper discussion. Just the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AhhhhI am back from the dead! Now that I am on Christmas break, I have more time to write, yay!
> 
> Again this chapter was a little hard to write as it had all the characters in it, but I'm excited to write the next chapter as it will just have Lance and Lotor in it. I'm sure all of you Lancelot shippers will like it hehehe
> 
> Thank you for all of your support! It means so much to me!


	6. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Lotor have a discussion, and Lance realises Lotor's true motives.
> 
> Trigger Warning: There's noncon stuff in this, not full on rape but Lance is definitely sexually assaulted.

The screen was black, reflecting the Voltron team’s horrified faces. They stayed there momentarily, frozen, waiting for the screen to turn back on to show Lance happy and safe. But it never happened. All there was, was silence. And Lance was gone.

 

The saddest thing was, the last time they had felt pain this great, was only a week ago.

 

Then one by one, the silence was broken. Pidge sobbed into Hunk’s chest, who in turn starting sobbing. Coran put his arms around the both of them, he himself holding back tears. “It’s okay, kids, it’s gonna be alright. We’ll get him back.” He said softly.

 

Shiro still stared at the screen, Lance’s final words burned into his brain. Lance had apologised. He’d gone through imprisonment, and torture, all because the team hadn’t got to him in time, and he was apologising to  _them._  Shiro had never felt this amount of shame before. He was Lance’s leader, his hero. And he’d let Lance down.

 

Allura began to busy herself on the monitors, bringing up diagrams of Candel’s water planet. Pidge spotted her, and shoved herself away from Hunk angrily.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Allura!” She yelled. “You just watched Lance get tortured, we all saw it right in front of our eyes, and you’re just immediately going back to helping this Candel guy!?!”

 

“Pidge-”

 

“How could you be so heartless?”

 

_“Pidge.”_

 

 “Does Lance really mean that little to you!?”

 

“PIDGE!” Allura yelled, stunning them all into silence. “Yes, we’re going to help Candel, because his planet has access to some of the best long-range weaponry in the Universe. If we’re going to attack Lotor’s ship, we need him.”

 

“A…attack Lotor’s ship?” asked Hunk.

 

“Yes.” Allura said. “We’re getting Lance back. I don’t care if we’re not equipped yet. We will be, and we will make Lotor rue the day he took one of our own.”

 

“Allura’s right,” Said Shiro, “If we’re going to get Lance back, we need all the help we can get. The defences on that place must be more than anything we’ve ever seen.”

 

“Then what should we do?” asked Coran.

 

“We’ll prepare for an attack in a few weeks’ time. Then we’ll hit Lotor with everything we’ve got.”

 

“A few weeks? Will Lace survive that long? Now that I’ve given information to Lotor, it could make things even harder for him.” Hunk said guilty.

 

Shiro placed his hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “Lance is strong. I know he can fight through this.” He smiled comfortingly, then turned to direct everyone.

 

“Pidge, help Allura get the tech ready to assist Candel. Hunk, make sure all of our current tech is in peak condition.” Hunk nodded and ran off to his workshop. Pidge dried her eyes, gave Allura an apologetic nod for yelling at her, and the two of them got to work.

 

Shiro turned to Coran. “Coran, sort out the contacts with other planets, only planets we know for sure we can trust with the fact that we’re down two Paladins. Take on any help they offer. I’ll contact the Blade.”

 

“Do you think it will be enough?” asked Coran.

 

“It has to be. We’ve already lost Keith. We are not losing Lance too.” He looked to the stars outside, imagining the Blue Lion flying back between them.

 

“We’re going to bring him home.”

 

* * *

 

Lance’s mind was in a state of calm, brought on by the healing pods. The pods worked at healing his wounds and made him feel like he was floating through a lagoon of peaceful bliss. But still, Lance could not shake off the grief he was feeling for his friends, that he wouldn’t be able to see them for a long time. He knew that escaping such a high-powered base as this ship was never achieved in a day; it would be a long while before he made it home. But he did his best to hold off his suffering, he was getting pretty good at that, what with Keith and all. He knew he would see the others again someday, or they weren’t the Paladins of Voltron.

 

The healing pod powered down, and the slight feeling of peace he had quickly disappeared as he was greeted by the faces of multiple druids. He felt like a zoo animal. One Druid mouthed something to another, and the door to the pod opened. Two Druids took hold of his arms and lifted him out. Lance quickly looked around the room. Despite being a room of healing, it was still as dark and cold as the rest of the ship.

 

“Are you still in physical pain, Paladin?” One asked, in the unsettling voice that all of the Druids seemed to have. Maybe that was a requirement for the job; can do magic, be Galran, have a creepy voice, that seemed plausible to Lance.

 

“No, I’m not.” And he wasn’t, his body was completely healed. It was as if the torture had never happened. He wondered why the Galra would be so thorough in healing him.

 

“He’s expected in the main hall. Someone dress him.”

 

“I can dress myself, thanks.” Lance said quickly, he’d rather not have the Druids touch him any further.

 

The Druid looked at him sceptically, but just nodded. “Fine, but you will still get changed here. Give the boy his clothes.”

 

The clothes he was given were surprisingly alright, just a plain t-shirt and black trousers. He was given shoes as well thankfully, so his feet no longer had to freeze on the cold metal floor of the ship. And it all beat walking around in his half-destroyed skin-tight jumpsuit. He made sure not to voice how thankful he was though, and it was still humiliating having to change in front of the druids, despite how little they seemed to care, barely looking at him.

 

Once he was dressed, a sentry stepped forward and took hold of his arms. They were pulled behind his back, but surprisingly weren’t chained. He was led outside the infirmary, and once again he was being pushed through endless corridors. It was still an impossible maze, but Lance was able to recognise some pathways he’d already walked down. That was a start. He still had a chance of making it out of here by himself. It would be hard getting past the sentries, however, if they were all like the one leading him. It’s grip on him was like steel.

 

“I’m figuring you work out a lot, hey buddy?”

 

The sentry didn’t respond.

 

“Not a talker, huh?”

  
After a few left and right turns, they finally arrived at a large doorway. The door opened up to a ginormous dining room. The walls were as tall as buildings, and all decorated ornately. The floor was shiny enough to see your own reflection in. One of the walls held a large window that spanned the length of the room, allowing a view into the starry sky outside. It was beautiful. It would have felt like a room in the Castle of Lions, had that distinct Galran purple glow not hung over the place.

 

A large table stood in the centre, with multiple chairs around it. Only one chair was full however, at the head of the table.

 

“Blue Paladin,” Said Lotor, smiling welcomingly. “I’m glad to see you unharmed.”

 

Lance wasn’t sure where to go from here. He didn’t want to join Lotor at the table, but the sentry looming behind him made it clear that that was what he was supposed to do. The sentry led him towards the table, Lance dragging his feet as much as he could. He had hoped he’d be seated in a chair far away from Lotor, but of course he was pushed down right next to him. The sentry took hold of one of Lance’s arms, as if to chain him to the chair, and looked at Lotor questioningly. Lotor shook his head, and Lance’s arm was dropped as the sentry made its way out of the room.

 

He was now alone with Lotor, and that, along with the size of the room, made Lance feel incredibly small. The food however smelled very inviting. He looked down at his plate. They weren’t the scraps he had been fed during his time in his cell. This was actual food, and it looked good.

 

“So how are you feeling?” Asked Lotor. Lance scoffed at his concern. Like he really cared how Lance felt.

 

“Well, you know, being trapped at dinner with your enemy is always a sure-fire way to feel great.”

 

“I’m trying to keep this conversation pleasant, Blue Paladin. I suggest you do the same.” That was a clear warning, and Lance was too tired right now to challenge it. He’d attempt to play nice for now. Emphasis on attempt.

 

Eating, however, was out of the question. As delicious as it all looked, Lance knew how this went. The food was likely poisoned or drugged, the drink certainly was, as it looked alcoholic. Lance refused to fall for such an obvious trick.

 

Lotor noticed this. “I’ve done nothing to your meal, you know.”

 

“I’m not hungry.”

 

“Hmm, if you’re not up for eating right now, that’s fine. I’ll give you some time to adjust. But if this continues for too long we’ll have to start force feeding you through a tube.”

 

The image made Lance internally cringe, but he couldn’t show Lotor how scared he was. So he remained staring sceptically at his food. “That doesn’t sound any worse than what you’ve already done.”

 

“Ah yes, the interrogation.” Lotor paused, for the first time looking hesitant, “I actually wanted to apologise for that.” He noticed Lance’s disbelieving expression, “I mean it. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but as the Emperor I have to take necessary precautions. It shouldn’t have gone that far though.”

 

Lance chose not to believe a word of what Lotor was saying. This was a cold-blooded War Lord, he must have jumped at the chance to torture Lance. The word “Emperor” did set Lance on edge, however. It was so surreal. If someone had told him years ago he’d one day be having dinner with the Emperor of a galactic empire, Lance would have laughed in their face.

 

“You went too far the moment you landed on that planet.”

 

“Oh please, you should be thankful that I didn’t harm any other members of your team.”

 

“Why didn’t you though? Why did you just take off with me? And you…” Lance trailed off momentarily, before building up the strength to get the words out, forcing himself to look Lotor in the eyes. “You did hurt my team. You…you  _killed_   _Keith.”_   

 

“Oh, him? That annoying little red thing? I figured that you didn’t really care about him. He was reckless enough to run straight at a launching spaceship. It was his own fault.” Lotor took a drink, signalling that this was the end of the topic. Lance wasn’t done yet though.

 

“Keith…Keith was my family.”

 

Lotor slammed his glass down, effectively shutting Lance up. There was a tense pause between them.

 

“Enough about him. Let’s talk about you. There’s something I wish to discuss with you, actually.” Lotor waited for a response, looking at Lance expectantly. “Blue Paladin,” He prompted.

 

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Lance stared hard at his plate. He knew he should be listening to what Lotor had to say, it could be useful for the war. But this was the man who had imprisoned and tortured him. He wanted nothing to do with him.

 

Lotor rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Then what  _do_  you want?”

 

“I want to be as far away from you as possible.” Lance knew Lotor wouldn’t like that reply. He closed his eyes, preparing for a strike, but opened them to see Lotor smiling at him, as if he were about to laugh.

 

“Do you expect me to harm you or something? You winced like a kitten.” Lotor mocked. Lance glared at him, feeling slightly embarrassed. Was he that afraid already? But he had reason to be. Before now, all Lotor had done was harm him.

 

And now he was leaning in close to Lance’s face. His leering position over Lance made him feel even smaller in this already obscenely large room. “Do I scare you, Blue Paladin?” He seemed almost excited for the answer.

 

Lance didn’t like the direction this conversation was heading. “Just tell me what you want with me, and then this conversation can be over.”

 

Lotor laughed. “Well, what I want would require us to keep talking. That’s usually what people do when they’re in unity.”

 

Lance froze. “When they’re…when they’re what?”

 

Lotor looked at him, blinking in surprise, then laughed in disbelief. “You really haven’t figured it out yet? I know you’re dumb, Lance, but even you can’t be that stupid.” He laughed again, and that laugh seemed to bring the entire Universe crashing down on Lance.

 

It was true, Lance had been suspicious, but had shoved the thought away. Denial, perhaps. But now the facts were right in front of him and they were close, they were  _too goddamn close_. Lotor reached out his hand, placing it on top of Lance’s. It would have been a comforting gesture, had Lance not known that Lotor was intentionally doing this to scare him.

 

“You obviously remember that night in the bar. Have you thought about it since?” Lance didn’t reply, but he couldn’t pull his eyes from Lotor, there was no room to turn his head. Lotor had made faces like this the whole time he was around Lance, but in this new context, and the dim glow of the room illuminating it, Lance saw what was really there. This was the face of a man who was able to hide how deranged he actually was.

 

Lance felt suffocated; he couldn’t speak, he could barely think. Torture, imprisonment, they were all things he was familiar with. This was new territory, and it was terrifying. He had to run.  _He had to run._

 

He had no plan. No expectations of actually making it out. But when Lotor reached out his other hand to do God knows what, panic overcame his rationality. He ripped his hand from Lotor’s grip, practically threw himself out of his chair, and ran, aiming desperately for the door. He knew he couldn’t make it out of the room. The door was locked. But Lance was so panicked, he figured that maybe adrenaline could kick in, and he’d be able to knock the door down if he slammed into it hard enough.

 

But slamming into the door only proved detrimental for himself, as he crumpled to the floor after impact. He turned his head to see Lotor approaching him like a wounded animal.

 

Lance scooted back as far as was possible. “Stay the hell away from me!”

 

Lotor tutted, as if the Blue Paladin was a frightened child. “Now, now, don’t be silly Lance. Just because you’re scared doesn’t mean you need to injure yourself.” Lance pressed himself into the door as hard as he could, but it didn’t prevent Lotor from taking hold of his arm and easily picking him up off the ground. But the fight wasn’t over yet.

 

Now back on his feet, Lance darted to the side, making as if to bolt again, but Lotor didn’t give him that chance, grabbing him from behind. Lance struggled and yelled desperately, but Lotor was too big for him to push against, his arms wrapped tight around Lance’s waist and torso.

 

“Get off me you quiznack!”

 

“Blue Paladin, I will give you one chance to stop this stupid behaviour.”

 

Lance instead tried to wriggle downwards in order to slip out of Lotor’s grip, but Lotor responded by grabbing Lance by the hair and pulling hard. He cried out in pain, and Lotor took advantage of his moment of distraction to slam Lance face first on the ground. Lance had no time to push himself back up before Lotor had kneeled on both sides of his body, sitting on Lance’s lower back while holding both of Lance’s arms in a one-handed grip.

 

Rationality appeared back to Lance, enough to realise the position they were in.

 

“Get off me, please just get off me!”

 

“Oh no, Blue Paladin, I told you, you had one chance to stop your ridiculous struggling. You’ve lost that chance.” Lotor leaned over Lance, and whispered into his ear, softly enough that Lance could feel his breath and his lips dangerously close to his skin. “Telling me about your family wasn't the only thing I was grateful for at the bar. You told me so much about yourself, just with your body. Do you always act that way in front of strangers?”

 

“Listen, you sicko, I don’t know what the hell you’ve been smoking but-”

 

Lotor grabbed him by the hair again with his free hand a pulled Lance’s head back sharply, causing Lance to once again cry out in pain. “The consort of an Emperor doesn’t speak in such vulgar tones.” His weight was pressed closely to Lance’s back, and try as he might to jolt around, Lance couldn’t shake Lotor off.

 

“Oh no, they just do whatever the fuck it is you’re doing!”

 

“Forgive me, but I’ve been waiting so long to do this. You need to understand how much suffering you’ve caused me in the past. But now you’re finally here. You’re where you belong.” Lotor’s hand had left Lance’s hair during his little speech, and was now trailing it up and down Lance’s arm, until he began slowly slipping it under Lance’s shirt. His touch was like knives on Lance’s bare skin.

  
Lance froze, and saw his own fear reflected on the floor. “Don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare, especially not here on the floor!” All the time he was here, he had wondered why Lotor had been so brazen in front of others. But turns out he had been holding back. Now it was just the two of them, and Lance had never felt so vulnerable. Tears sprang to his eyes, and if it was due to fear, anger, or shame, he couldn’t tell.

 

Lotor laughed softly, and cupped Lance’s face, using his thumb to wipe away Lance’s tears. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do too much unless you want it. And you will. I know you will.”

 

“You’re fucking deranged, you psychotic piece of-”

 

“I  _know_ ,” Lotor continued, “because that night in the bar, I could tell you wanted me.” By those last words, Lotor had leaned his face into Lance’s neck, breathing deeply, like a man starved.

 

Lance recoiled best he could with his face still in Lotor’s grip. But he remembered. He remembered seeing Lotor in his disguise, thinking how tall and muscular he was. At the time, Lotor’s physicality had been attractive. Now it was terrifying. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

 

“Oh please, you knew exactly what you were doing Lance.” Lotor glared at him. Lance hated the way Lotor said his name from the very beginning, but could never put his finger on why. But now he knew. It was as if his name belonged to Lotor.

 

“You can’t expect to be able to act like that…that, that  _tempting_ -”

 

“What are you-”

 

“And not expect consequences. Be grateful that I’m making those consequences as easy as possible.”

 

Lance wrenched his face out of Lotor’s grasp to turn to him furiously, “You call  _torturing_  me easy?”

 

“Like I said, that was a necessary precaution, and I do apologise for that.” Lotor’s hand was back in his hair, but this time it was gentle, which perhaps made it worse. “From now on, we’re doing things my way, the way that should accommodate both of us. If you behave.”

 

“There’s no point, I’d never agree to that, so you might as well give up on this whole thing and get off me.”  _Please just let me go home,_  went unsaid.

 

Lotor smiled, and didn’t budge from his seat on Lance’s back, but he did have the mercy of leaning back, away from Lance’s face. His hand didn’t leave Lance’s hair however. “No, I’m rather comfortable here.”

 

Lance desperately thought of ways to get Lotor off of him, since in his position, physically throwing Lotor off was not an option. Maybe intimidation would work. “They’ll kill you,” Lance snarled, “My friends; they’ll find me and they’ll tear you apart, limb from limb.”

  
Lotor simply sighed, as if he was reprimanding a child. “They’re not coming for you, and you’re never leaving. This is your home now. Accept it. You'll maybe even learn to like it.”

 

“Like hell I will! Who’d wanna live with a creep like you?!”

 

“Trust me, I may be a threatening adversary, but you’ll see how much better it is to be on my side.” Lotor traced a finger over Lance’s hip, and disgust pooled in Lance’s stomach. “So much better. But I’m guessing we are through with dinner. It’s understandable. You could probably do with some rest. I know how fragile humans can be.”

 

Lance didn’t bother to reply, too relieved that at long last Lotor was standing up, dragging Lance with him. Lance immediately tried to pull his arms free from Lotor’s grip, but his efforts proved futile. Lotor dragged him to the door, which opened to two sentries, to whom Lotor shoved Lance towards.

 

“Take him to my room.”

 

“Your room!?” Lance asked.

 

Lotor ignored him, continuing to give the sentries orders. “Try not to be too rough with him, he’s had a long day.”

 

“I’m not going to your room! I’d rather jump into a vat of acid!”

 

“But chain one of his arms to the bed, he’s too restless to be roaming free right now. He could destroy all of my furniture.”

 

“Don’t talk about me as if I’m a dog!” Lance protested, as the sentries dragged him along the corridor. As the door closed, Lance caught sight of Lotor’s grin, as he mouthed the words that set in stone how awful Lance’s situation truly was.

 

“Welcome home, Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took soooo long to write, it's like double the length of my usual chapters.
> 
> But ahhhh Lotor's finally shown how crazy he is, rather, how crazy for Lance he is, haha! For me, this chapter was where the story really began, so I was super excited to reach this point. But poor Lance!
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! And thank you to everyone who left Kudos and comments! xxx


	7. Hours Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance struggles to get used to his new life

Lotor’s room was an enigma of incongruity. It was beautiful, but disgusting. Full of furniture, but empty with its grey and purple colour palette, and lack of anything personal within it. It seemed calm and peaceful, but was filled with memories of anguish and violence. Lance would have loved to stay in a room like this; if it was a hotel room, and if he wasn’t locked inside it.

 

Lance figured that Lotor didn’t spend much time in here. Nothing in the room really gave off his presence, it all looked too clean and tidy. Lance would have happily trashed everything if Lotor ever wanted to add some personality to it.

 

Lance was sat on the bed, pushing his hand underneath a corner of the mattress to fiddle furiously with one of the hidden mattress wires. The mattress was incredibly comfy he had to admit, so he felt bad about damaging it, but it was a necessary thing. Lance figured pulling out a wire would have been easy, but being that one of his wrists was handcuffed to a bedpost, it was proving rather more difficult.

 

Lance took a break from the mattress to rub his entrapped wrist, which stuck his arm out in a position that made him ache all the way up to his shoulder, depending on how he was sitting. Lotor had insisted Lance stayed tied down whilst he was on his own. He must have worried that Lance would pull apart the sofa cushions or whatever. Which was definitely tempting.

 

He’d spent what seemed like three weeks in this room, and it hadn’t gotten any easier. Whilst thankfully Lotor wasn’t in here much, even the thought of him being out there, able to pop in at any time, was enough to leave Lance constantly on edge. He still hadn’t been able to shake off the feelings of that first night he was put in here.

 

* * *

 

 

“Let go of me, I’ll kill you, I swear to God I’ll kill you!”

 

The sentries paid him no mind as they dragged him towards Lotor’s room, not even flinching when Lance tried to throw his weight to the ground. The door opened and they pulled him upright and inside. The room was big, as he guessed an Emperor’s room would be, with a sofa and dressers along every wall, and a large screen taking up the wall opposite the bed. The bed was large and circular, similar to Allura’s in the Castle of Lions, except there were bed posts on each corner which supported a large canopy of dark purple fabric. But there were no windows, so even in a room like this, Lance felt like it was just another cell. Which it was.

 

The way they held him down couldn’t help but remind him of what had just transpired. So he was thankful when they finally left, once he was secured to the bedpost. But that meant leaving him alone with his thoughts.

 

His skin felt disgusting. He’d never experienced anything like that before. As much as he acted like the lover-boy Lance people expected him to be, things like sex and intimacy were all so new to him. Even with Keith he hadn’t gone very far yet. Only light embraces, kissing, and hand holding. They’d both decided it was for the best to take things slow, which gave them room to think of other things like the war. Lance liked that, it made moments with Keith feel special and magical. But Lotor hadn’t wasted any time. And even though he said he would never fully force himself on Lance, Lance couldn’t trust that, and he feared what Lotor had planned to make him “want it”.

 

This was his life now. And it made him so afraid.

 

He clutched onto the bedpost, refusing to sit on the bed, be anywhere near where Lotor’s body may have been. But he couldn’t fully escape that. He was in his _room_ now. And he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. The room was swirling around him, every inch of his skin felt like it was crawling, his chest felt like it was being crushed. He remembered Shiro describing what this was to him once. A panic attack. So far, Lance had managed to kid himself that being captured and interrogated was what all part of what heroes did, like in the movies. But this never happened. The fact that this was real, that this situation was happening and would continue to happen, made Lance’s body want to self-destruct.

 

He hadn’t cried from fear in a long time, not since he was little. His mum had found him under his bed covers as a young teenager, crying over his place at the Garrison, how everyone had laughed when he’d messed up a flight simulation, fearing that he would never make it as a pilot. She had held him and stroked his hair, assuring him that he would be able to make it through anything he set his mind to.

 

But she wasn’t there now. Lance cried in that room alone.

 

* * *

 

 

The door opening swiftly stopped Lance’s attempt to grasp a mattress wire in its tracks. It was Sorkal, a guard who brought Lance his meals every day. After the first night Lotor had suggested it be better for Lance to eat in his room alone for a while, to which Lance agreed, as it meant not eating with Lotor, who he learned mainly ate in his office alone. Lance wondered if Lotor felt the same way about being alone as he did.

 

Only 3 people were allowed in Lotor’s-and now technically _his_ -room. Sorkal, Lance and Lotor himself. Lance figured Lotor was continuing his isolation tactic, letting Lance see the minimum amount of people possible so that he would be happy to see Lotor when he finally walked him. Lance scoffed. As if that would ever work.

 

The meal that Sorkal brought was a basic one, it held potatoes, greens, and a meat of some kind. Lance missed his mother’s home cooking, but the food here honestly wasn’t so bad. Lance tried to act as inconspicuous as possible as Sorkal shoved the plate at him, giving him a disdainful look that every guard had given him since he’d been here. Maybe that was just the most common Galran expression. Keith did often make that face.

 

But Lance didn’t mind the disdain Sorkal held for him, as the sentiments were returned. But Lance figured that their relationship had improved since the first time they met.

 

* * *

 

 

The first time food had been brought to him, Lance suspected that Lotor had told Sorkal to give him time to adjust, as they simply placed his meals nearby him before leaving. Lance refused to even look at the food. He didn’t care that he was starving. He didn’t want anything from the Empire. Even though Lotor hadn’t come into his room yet, Lance could feel his presence in everything that came through the door.

 

For a while, Sorkal allowed this behaviour. But as Lance began to grow weaker from lack of food and barely anything to drink, it was clear that they were getting impatient. Lance took some small victory from that.

 

“Blue Paladin, you are under orders to eat.”

 

Lance sneered from his tied position on the bed. “Oh, under orders, am I? I thought Lotor wanted me to adjust.”

 

“The Emperor states that you have had enough time, and that this behaviour must cease.”

 

“Oh sure, and what are you gonna do if I starve to death? Kill me?”

 

Sorkal shoved the place in Lance’s face. Lance responded by whacking it away with his free hand. Food spilt all over the floor, and all over Sorkal. Sorkal made as if to strike him, but thought better of it, and placed the food from the floor back onto the plate.

 

“Then it seems I must take the action Lotor ordered of me.”

 

Lance’s skin prickled at that sentence. “What actio-” He didn’t have time to ask, as Sorkal grabbed his face in one hand, shoving the plate even closer to his face. Lance clenched his mouth shut, but Sorkal pushed their thumb into Lance’s jaw, so he had no choice but to open it. Sorkal proceeded to shove the entire meal into Lance’s mouth, ignoring Lance’s thrashing, and closed his mouth with their hand, covering Lance’s nose as well so he had no choice but to swallow. Only once all of the food was finally gone, did Sorkal remove their hand, leaving Lance to cough and wheeze.

 

“I hope you enjoyed your meal, Paladin” Said Sorkal coldly, and left the room, leaving Lance to splutter.

 

That was the routine for the next week or so. Sorkal would come in with a plate. Lance would fight Sorkal off until they managed to get every last bit of food down his throat, claiming this was ordered by Lotor. And where was Lotor? Lance had suspected Lotor couldn’t have waited to share a room, but it had been a few days and Lotor was a no-show. What game was he playing?

 

It got to the point, where Lance hated to admit it, but he was too exhausted to keep being force-fed. And obviously now he knew there was nothing drug-like in the food. Nothing noticeable anyway. He needed food to keep his strength up, and wasting his strength in fighting Sorkal was not helping.

 

So when Sorkal came in once again, and pushed a plate in his face, Lance sighed, and ate.

 

A while after that mealtime, was when Lotor finally entered his room.

 

Lance had been sitting on the bed in boredom, but at the sight of Lotor he’d immediately stood up, his fight-or-flight instincts in high alert.

 

“So, you finally decided to eat then?”

 

“Only because I was sick of having it shoved down my throat.”

 

Lotor smiled, still pleased with these developments. “I gave you the choice of whether to eat like a person or an animal, and when you chose animal, Sorkal acted as I saw fit.”

 

Lance glared at him, trying to stop himself from trembling. “You never gave me any choice. I hate to be the one to tell you, but physically forcing people to do stuff kinda negates the whole “choice” thing.”

 

Lotor walked over to him, towering over Lance by a whole foot. “It’ll all be your choice. I’m just showing you what the easier choice would be. I know that over time, you’ll see that.” He reached out as if to touch Lance’s face again. Still too traumatised by what Lotor had already done, Lance shot back as far as his cuffed wrist would allow.

 

“If you want me to choose, then stay away from me.”

 

Lotor sighed. “That’s a little unrealistic of a demand Lance, we share the same room, the same bed. It’s impossible not to be within each other’s company.”

 

So, there was the confirmation of what Lance had been dreading. He’d been waiting for this moment since he was first put in here. Whilst Lotor had been away a small part of Lance had hoped that maybe he did have a separate room to Lotor, but overall, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. But even if he had been expecting it, he was still afraid. Even being on the same ship as this man was too much, he could not handle sleeping in the same bed.

 

“I am not sleeping in that bed with you!”

 

“I told you I wouldn’t do anything.”

 

“I can’t trust that!”

 

“You need a bed to sleep in, Lance.”

 

“I’d rather sleep on the floor. Hell, I’d rather sleep in a ditch!”

 

Lotor was getting angry. “See what I mean Lance? You keep making all of these stupid claims and decisions. Until you can choose what’s best for yourself I will be limiting some of your choices.” He once again reached out to Lance, and this time didn’t give Lance the chance to pull away. He held Lance’s chin in his hand, forcing Lance to look at him. “I am your Emperor, and you will listen to me. This is your life now. If you accept that, it will be a lot easier.”

 

Lotor was no Emperor of Lance’s. But Lotor’s threating form in too close proximity had silenced Lance, so he simply chose to refuse eye contact.

 

Lotor held Lance for a few seconds more, then leaned over and took hold of the cuff on his wrist. “But this has to go,” he said, unchaining him, “you don’t need to be tied while I’m here.” His hands lingered slightly too long on Lance’s wrist, and Lance pulled his arm to his chest, cradling it. “I take it you’ve realised there’s a bathroom over there,” Lotor said, pointing at the nearby ensuite door. “You can wash up if you wish.”

 

Lotor stepped away from Lance, allowing him the space to walk to the bathroom. Lance gingerly took a step forward, waiting to be cuffed or grabbed. Lance had not gone anywhere recently without being escorted by someone. This had to be some sort of trick. “You’re letting me be on my own?” he asked, “You’re letting me wander around the room by myself, untied? Aren’t you worried?”

 

Lotor looked him up and down with a smirk on his face. “Please, that would insinuate that I see you as a threat. Which I certainly do not.” _Asshole,_ Lance thought. He really needed a few pointers in how to win someone’s affection. But right now, Lance’s main priority was the bathroom. Lotor had said he could wash up, and Lance was in no mood to refuse that. He hadn’t been able to shower whilst he was on his hunger strike. And while he could go without eating, he could not go without showering.

 

The bathroom was just as beautiful as the room, designed with marble decor, with a large bathtub and shower. Lance had never seen a shower with so many settings. But before he got ahead of himself, he suddenly had a thought. In order to shower, he had to strip naked. With Lotor in the next room.

 

Lance looked at the door. Thankfully there was a lock, but that wasn’t enough to soothe Lance’s nerves. What if there was a camera in here? Lance looked around desperately, inspecting every inch of the bathroom, until it seemed that Lotor was getting impatient. “Why aren’t you showering yet?” He called from the bedroom.

 

Lance poked his head around the door, to see Lotor getting changed. He was topless, and Lance, embarrassed, quickly looked away. Even if Lotor had a six-pack, that was something he really did not want to see.

 

“Do you have camera’s in here?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

“I wouldn’t put it past a creep like you.”

 

Lotor rolled his eyes. He seemed different than the creepy psycho Lance had seen before. “Lance, if we’re together, then at one point I’m going to see you undressed. There’s no point in me installing a camera if I know that statement to be true. Just use the shower, before I decide not to let you. And that would be inconvenient for both of us. You smell pungent.”

 

Insulted, Lance accepted defeat and skulked back into the bathroom. But still worried that Lotor could come in at any point, he grabbed the chair next to the bath and placed it in front of the locked door.

 

Lance had been hesitant to use the soaps and shampoos within the shower at first, but when he relented and tried them they smelled wonderful. Lance loved showering, water being his natural element, and he had to admit that this shower soothed some of the tension he had built up all over. Showers always reminded him of rain, and therefore of home. He usually pushed away feelings of home, worried that they would be too painful, but for this moment, he just let himself feel as the water ran down him comfortingly.

 

When he came out (making sure to wrap as much of his towel around him as he could), Lotor looked at him and nodded, then gestured to a pile on the bed. “Here is a change of clothes for you. They’re softer, so they should be better for sleeping in.”

 

Lance wasn’t sure about the clothes; he had gotten used to sleeping in the clothes he had been given three weeks ago. Then again, he had also gotten used to sleeping with his wrist cuffed to a bedpost, so it seemed a lot of things were changing tonight.

 

Lotor passed him to go into the bathroom himself, thankfully giving Lance some privacy to get changed. He did it quickly, for fear that Lotor would return at any moment. The thought of Lotor seeing him naked made him gag. The clothes were definitely soft, but Lance figured that these were Lotor’s clothes, and he didn’t care for that at all. They were way too big for him for a start, and they had the unmistakable scent of Lotor within them. Lance couldn’t help but feel like Lotor was marking him.

 

Lotor came out of the bathroom, and let out a soft laugh when he saw Lance in his oversized clothes. “You look ridiculous.” He said, but this time without insult. He was saying it fondly. It reminded Lance of how Keith would tease him. Wait, he can’t think about Keith right now.

 

“So now what?”

 

“Well Lance, there’s this thing called sleeping. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” Lotor made his way to the bed, got under the duvet, and patted the space next to him. Lance’s space.

 

Lance stood hesitantly, glancing at the door. “You already know it’s useless, Lance,” said Lotor. “Now come here.”

 

Lance didn’t want to. He wanted to stay in that exact spot for the rest of the night. Well, he actually wanted to be back home, with his friends and family, for the rest of the night, but that was dreaming a little too far.

 

“I won’t ask again, Lance.”

 

Lance grimaced, looked at the floor, and forced his legs to move. He slowly made his way to the bed and under the duvet, ready to run if Lotor tried anything. Thankfully, Lotor looked happy enough at the situation, even with Lance laying as far away from him as possible without falling off the bed.

 

Lance gestured to the bedpost. “Am I going to be cuffed to the bed?”

 

Lotor looked at him in thought, and took hold of his wrist, noticing the bruises from the cuffs. “No, you can sleep freely. I don’t want you having any more bruises.” Lotor turned off the light and laid down, looking at Lance one more time before closing his eyes.

 

“Goodnight Lance.”

 

Lance didn’t say anything.

 

“I _said_ goodnight, Lance.”

 

Lance wasn’t in the mood for another fight. “Yeah, goodnight or whatever.”

 

These forced pleasantries made the whole situation seem so surreal. He thought having dinner with Lotor was weird enough, but now they were _sleeping in the same bed_. It was like they were a couple, which he guessed was what Lotor wanted. But he just didn’t feel comfortable. Having Lotor so close, it was enough to bring on another panic attack. His body twitched, itching to run to the door, and he couldn’t fall asleep in this situation. He tossed and turned for what felt like forever.

 

Finally, even Lotor got sick of it. “Your fidgeting is annoying.” he grumbled, not lifting his head from the pillow.

 

“Well excuse me for not feeling comfortable in this situation.”

 

“I warned you about back-talking, Lance.”

 

“And I warned you that my friends are going to kill you.”

 

“I doubt they would have any reason to, you’ve been treated fairly here.”

 

“I’ve been locked in a room for two weeks!”

 

“Well, whilst you have been lazing away in here I’ve been maintaining an Empire, and the last thing I need is for my consort to argue with me.”

 

Consort was too triggering a word for Lance. “That’s it, I’m not sleeping here, I’m not sleeping near your stupid quiznacking face.” Lance sat up, and halfway made it out of the bed before Lotor grabbed him by the neck.

 

“I told you that wasn’t an option.” Lance turned back to see Lotor’s dangerous expression, before he was shoved down by his throat. The bed creaked underneath them as Lance tried to pull Lotor’s hand away from his neck, with little luck. Whilst he struggled to breathe, Lotor leaned over with one arm and rummaged in the drawers next to his bed, pulling out a syringe.

 

Lance saw what it contained, a dark blue liquid that glimmered in the low light, and immediately panicked. “What the hell is that!?” He choked, bucking and twisting and scratching at Lotor’s arms to get him to let go. But Lotor had pressed all of his weight onto Lance, giving him no room to scramble back even an inch. Even when Lance got a hit in, Lotor simply pressed harder on Lance’s throat.

 

“If we’re to share the same bed, we must learn to trust each other. And trust is a two-way street, so until I know you can behave, this has to be done.” Lotor twisted Lance’s neck with his hand to show his free skin, giving Lotor a prime target. He shoved the needle in and pushed the syringe down until half of the liquid was in Lance. Only then, did he finally let go. Lance immediately made to jump off the bed, but his vision suddenly turned cloudy, and he stopped in his tracks.

 

“What…w-what the?” Lance mumbled. His speech was going slurry. His limbs felt so light, he thought he was going to float away. He barely even noticed Lotor gently taking hold of him and lowering him back down onto the cushions. “W-what’s happe...ning?”

 

“Shhh,” Said Lotor, smoothing back Lance’s hair. “It’s just a sedative. It will help you sleep.”

 

So Lotor _was_ planning on drugging him then. Lance tried to get out the words “You bastard,” but had barely made it to the first letter before his vision went black.

 

* * *

 

 

Had Lance been going by Lotor logic, he would say that the drugs had certainly put a damper on their relationship during the first few nights. Being drugged made him not want to go near the bed anymore, which made him struggle more, which in turn made Lotor drug him more. Due to their struggles and the injections, Lance kept waking up with bruises every morning; in fact there was one bruise on his arm that just wouldn't budge.

 

Being drugged was terrifying, it was as if his body was just shut down like a machine. It made his dreams feel heavy and dark. In contrast, when Lotor finally let Lance sleep without drugs, he dreamed of the time Keith took him flying; they’d flown to a remote island in the sky, where Keith had shown him a rare alien that blinked tears of liquid gold. It was the first time he’d felt at peace since arriving on Lotor’s ship.

 

Yes, he was finally able to fall asleep in Lotor’s bed. It was still terrifying, he still stayed awake for hours with adrenaline racing through him. But at least Lotor left him alone now. When he struggled Lotor had often dragged him across the room multiple times by the hair, had grabbed him by the throat and threw him, and in the worst case, had even carried him bridal style. Lance had fought extra hard that day, giving Lotor a wicked bite mark which still showed. Even though Lance had now decided that the best course of actions was to stay still, to show Lotor that he didn’t have to be drugged; he’d always be proud of that.

 

He’d mainly decided to stop because the drugs had made him ill. They had left him shaking when he woke up first thing in the morning, a couple of times he had even vomited into the toilet whilst Lotor rubbed his back, and he hadn’t had the strength to push him away. Like with his hunger strike, pride and stubbornness was all well and good (and he knew that the other Paladins would have been strong enough to stand their ground for much longer than him), he needed food and sleep if he was going to escape.

 

Speaking of escape, his efforts in getting a mattress wire was finally succeeding. He yanked it out, not bothering to be careful about the mattress. He was never going to see it again, anyway.

 

Now he had to hurry. Lotor would be back soon, and Lance wanted to be long gone before he arrived. He had to get out. He had to. This place was driving him mad. Even if Lotor had barely touched him since that first evening, any small contact made his skin crawl. And that was just in the daytime. Night was another matter. Because this was not the first escape attempt he had made.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance had been awake for hours. Unlike usually, when he would toss and turn before drifting off, this time he forced himself to stay still, feigning sleep. It had been torture staying in this position so long, focusing on his breathing so much that he occasionally forgot how to breathe, but at long last, it seemed Lotor was asleep.

 

It was time. He sat up slowly, keeping an eye on Lotor’s sleeping form. Even unconscious, he looked dangerous. Lance had to be careful, he couldn’t move too quickly as that would wake Lotor, but he couldn’t move too slowly or else Lotor could wake up before he had the chance to do anything.

 

He gently took a hold of the lamp beside the bed, gripping it tightly in his hands. He remembered that Pidge once told him that the frontal lobe was the most vulnerable part of the brain, so that was where he needed to strike. It was now or never. He lifted the lamp up and threw it down and hard as he could-

 

Only for Lotor to catch it in one hand.

 

Lance froze, as time seemed to stop as Lotor sat up, took the lamp in both hands, and placed it on the bedside drawers. How could he have predicted what Lance would do? How could he have reacted that fast?

 

Lotor sighed, and turned to Lance, who had to stop himself from squeaking in fear. “I really thought we were making progress, Lance.” He said disappointedly, then grabbed Lance’s arm. His movements were slightly more sluggish due to tiredness, but he still gave Lance no time to avoid him.

 

Lance braced himself, waiting for Lotor to grab the syringe and drug him once again. Dammit, he had been so close, and he really didn’t want to go back to the drugs again-

 

But Lotor didn’t do that. Instead, he pulled Lance towards him, turned him around, and wrapped his arms tightly around him, pinning his arms to his chest. Wait…Lotor was spooning him?!

 

“What the hell are you doing? Why aren’t you drugging me?” Lance cried, thrashing in Lotor’s arms to little effect.

 

“No more drugs for you Lance,” said Lotor, resting his head on the top of Lances. “Clearly, they haven’t got the message through to you.”

 

This wasn’t being drugged, but this was so, so, _so_ much worse. Lance felt suffocated; at least the bed was big enough that he hadn’t had to touch Lotor before, but now Lotor surrounded him completely. There was no escape, and after the event in the dining hall, this position was enough to have Lance shaking.

 

“Look, just get off me. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, just please let go of me!” Said Lance, attempting to push his arms out to break Lotor’s hold, which only succeeded in making Lotor’s grip tighter.

 

“Hush, Lance. You brought this on yourself.” He was so close that Lance could feel his breath on his ear, his position behind Lance making his voice seem insidious, like it was coming from Lance’s mind. “We can’t have you attacking me in my sleep, but the drugs make you ill. And since I said you won’t be cuffed whilst I’m here, therefore this is the only alternative.”

 

“Oh I’m sure it is, this totally isn’t just a way for you to feel me up again!”

 

“Not every action I take towards you is sexual, Lance.” Lance could feel Lotor grin slyly. “Unless, of course, that’s what you’d want?”

 

“My friends will kill you, I swear to God they’ll-”

 

“You don’t think _you_ can kill me?” Asked Lotor, stopping Lance in his tracks. He traced one of his fingers up and down Lance’s arm. “I’m told you were the weakest Paladin. The weak link. It figures.”

 

Lance felt his insecurities creep into his brain. He needed to end this conversation. He tried to kick Lotor, only for Lotor to wrap one of his legs over Lance’s, pinning them down. Lance snarled in annoyance. “If I’m the weak link, then why do you want me on your side?”

 

“The heart works in mysterious ways, Lance. For instance, I heard you once had a crush on the Princess. She probably wanted to date a paladin with actual brains and strength. Why would you think you’d ever have a chance?”

 

That was cruel. “Shut up.”

 

“And, well, the only other one who put up with you is dead now, isn’t he? Seems like your thoughtless actions hurt a lot of people. They’re probably glad to be rid of you.”

 

“Shut up.” He knew Lotor was talking shit. He knew Lotor was just saying this to hurt, him, to manipulate him or to accomplish any of his sick plans. But the words still hurt.

 

“I didn’t hit a nerve, did I?” said Lotor, fully and happily aware that he had. “Perhaps we should cease this talk then. Goodnight Lance.”

 

Lance was glad to stop talking, but in Lotor’s arms he had no room to recover. Lotor fell asleep while Lance stared at the wall, tears in his eyes. Even in sleep, any inch he made had Lotor tightening his grip.

 

He remembered the first time he and Keith had laid like this. It had been on a rest period after a battle, the relief at their victory making their embrace all the more special. It had been warm and comforting, but now it made him feel small and scared. Had anyone walked in, they would have seen what appeared to be a picture of romance. But instead, it gave Lance the feeling of torture.

 

Lance silently cried, and all Lotor did was hold him tighter.

 

* * *

 

They had been sleeping that way ever since. He still ate alone but Lotor made a habit of visiting more frequently now, much to Lance’s dismay. Lotor had definitely been tightening his grip over the past few days. Was it a few days? How long had Lance been here again? 3 weeks, right? Or was it 4? Without any windows, he could never tell what time it was, he only knew it was time to get up when Lotor got up, it was time to go to sleep when Lotor went to sleep. But even that was hard to track, he often couldn’t fall asleep in Lotor’s arms and found himself napping whilst cuffed to the bed.

 

Cuffs that were no longer a problem, Lance thought proudly, watching them fall from his wrist. Mattress wires really were great for picking locks. He rubbed his hand, before getting off the bed and taking a deep breath. It was time to break out. And this time, he wouldn’t fail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, and I thought the last chapter was long! I wanted to get this chapter out on Wednesday, but it just took forever to write. Next chapter will definitely be shorter. I was thinking of splitting this chapter in half, but then it would break up the whole confusion of time Lance is feeling and....ehhhh
> 
> I was also late in posting as I watched season 8, and .....maaaaaannnn. That was heavy. I have a few mixed feelings about it. I know some people hated season 8, but as long as we have fanfiction and fanart, the story will continue the way we want it. That's the beauty of fandom :)
> 
> I wanted to thank you all for sticking with the story, even though the shows ended now. Love you guys!xxx


	8. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor contemplates his first few weeks with Lance

“I must admit, Emperor, that I am concerned about you.”

 

“There is nothing to be concerned about, Haggar.”

 

Lotor looked back at Haggar from his throne. She stood in front of him, in the hunched way she always did that made him frown in disgust. How his father could stand the sight of her he had no idea. Then again, his father hadn’t exactly been a pleasant sight either. At least Lotor was trying to place himself in more attractive company. He glanced at the empty throne next to him. He knew it was unofficially Haggar’s seat, but she had no place there with him in charge. That throne belonged to someone else, once they had the sense to take it.

 

“Yes, there is. I am concerned that the boy is taking up far too much of your attention.”

 

Lotor sighed. This again. “Haggar, I have told you-”

 

“You spend more time in that room than you do on your throne, how does one run an Empire like that?”

 

Lotor stood up imposingly. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that, Witch! Remember your place.”

 

“My place is loyally at your side, and I feel it is my duty to say what needs to be said. Even your Generals are whispering.”

 

“Oh, they are, are they? Perhaps being sent to the Gladiator ring would quieten them. Perhaps it would quieten _you._ ” He glared at her to show that this was no empty threat. She stepped back, her head to the ground, realising she had to step cautiously.

 

“I apologise, Sire. But perhaps we should question the boy more, find out more of the secrets of Voltron.”

 

“I doubt he would give those secrets up, he cares too much about the other Paladins.” Lotor said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. He also knew another reason why he hadn’t questioned Lance. He didn’t want Lance to think of Voltron, he didn’t want Lance to speak of them. He wanted Lance to forget them. To think only of him. But then again, if Lotor knew more about Voltron, it would make their odds of rescuing Lance even lower than they were now.

 

“I will consider questioning him, along with getting him to open his Lion, as you have requested so many times. Not now, but perhaps in the future.”

 

“Thank you, my Emperor. That is very gracious of you.”

 

Lotor sat back down in his throne. “Don’t talk to me as if I was a child, Haggar.”

 

“I am simply doing my job as your advisor. And if Voltron does attack…”

 

But Lotor wasn’t listening. The gentle light from nearby stars shone over Haggar’s shoulder, and coerced Lotor to fall back into his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

He turned the lamp on, casting a gentle light over the room, and shook the last remnants of sleep from himself. Here was another mindless day of conquering planets and stomping out rebellions. Lotor almost didn’t want to get up. He wanted to stay in his bed forever, and the slight movement of a body next to him strengthened that wish.

 

Lance was still asleep, probably tuckered out from the fight he’d put up last night. He was definitely a little wildcat; the scratches he’d left on Lotor were still very visible. But in the grips of sleep, Lance had no fight in him, no snarl of disgust on his face. Instead he looked how he ought to look; at peace in Lotor’s arms.

 

Perhaps this was what being a couple was all about, the quiet moments. Lotor decided to stay in that moment for a few minutes longer, stroking Lance’s skin and feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. But he couldn’t allow himself to indulge for too long. He had an Empire to run, after all. He nuzzled into Lance’s neck one last time, wondering how he ever slept without him there, and slowly pulled his arms away, careful not to wake him. Lance looked too soft in sleep, he didn’t want to ruin that.

 

He quickly got dressed, then walked around to Lance’s side of the bed. He gently lifted Lance’s wrist, and cuffed it to the post. Lotor was easily able to overpower him, but alone, the boy could be dangerous. He looked forward to the day that this was no longer needed.

 

Lance was so beautiful. He almost wished he had a window in his room, then he could have seen the light stream over Lance’s sleeping form. It would make him glow. But he needed to keep Lance disorientated for now. The vision of the outside world could keep spurring on Lance’s desire to escape into it. Though he knew Lance would love a window. Perhaps one day, on a morning in the not so distant future.

 

He envisioned that future, when Lance would happily wake next to him, would smile at him as he opened his eyes. The two would gently kiss, and even make love if they had the time. Lance would moan Lotor’s name underneath him, would say how much he loved him, and then the two would begin their day hand in hand. It would be so perfect.

 

* * *

 

 

“Lotor! Are you listening?”

 

Lotor was reluctantly pulled from his thoughts by Haggar’s insufferable voice. “Yes, and none of it concerns me. Cease your prattling, and leave me.”

 

“But Voltron-”

 

“Voltron is down two members, they are no longer much of a threat. And it is likely we will be seeing them soon, I highly doubt they would just allow me to take one of their own without attempting to take him back. Their counter-attack will be weak, and we will crush them.”

 

Haggar sighed, and nodded. “Of course we will Sire, with your advanced battle tactics. But….I know the boy means a lot to you, but don’t push away your loyal subjects, or it is only natural for them to turn on you. I would never think of such a thing, but some of your Generals with eyes bigger than their stomachs may see your….infatuation, with the Paladin as a weak spot.”

 

“Noted. Now leave me.”

 

She did just that, and Lotor was left to contemplate.

 

Lance was not a liability. He was sure Lance would be a valuable asset to the empire once he accepted his place by Lotor’s side. But of course, that wasn’t really why Lotor wanted him. Obviously the Generals would be bitter, they had never had someone like this in their lives, had never had such a close family as he had now. Lance needed to be here, Lotor was sure that he, and therefore the Empire, would be much worse off without him.

 

But perhaps Haggar was right. He needn’t keep constantly thinking of the boy, when he knew he could see and touch him at any time he wished to. But Lance’s behaviour still tortured his mind. He was still ready to escape at a moment’s notice, and that infuriated Lotor. And with those out there that wished to take Lance away from him, he did have to be on constant alert. The risk of losing Lance, if small, was always there.

 

Lance probably wouldn’t change before anyone tried something, which is what Lotor expected. But it still hurt when his love looked at him with such disdain, and he knew he was often being violent with Lance because of that reason. He wished he didn't have to, but the boy just made him so angry at times. What could he do to make Lance see sense? What had the Red Paladin done to convince Lance that someone as pathetic and disgusting as him was worthy?  


Perhaps he should try the typical courting routine, as Lotor realised they had gone fully into a relationship without the earlier stages. A dinner date was off the table right now, as Lotor remembered how well that first attempt had gone. Maybe he could buy Lance presents, like jewellery or beauty things, he knew how much Lance loved skincare. However, Lance really hadn’t acted in a way that made him deserving of that. But if they were to work, maybe Lotor had to be the bigger person.

 

Perhaps he needed to spend more time with the boy, he had only been able to see him in his room thus far. Perhaps he should take him around the ship. If he was able to see how Lotor lived his daily life, he would no longer see him as an enemy. If Lance would just talk to him, without insults, then they could learn more about each other, Lance would feel the bond they shared. Then, surely, he wouldn't struggle anymore.

 

Though to be fair, Lance’s stubbornness had given Lotor a lot more chances to be physical with him. They were already embracing in sleep simply because Lance couldn't safely sleep alone. And he had to admit, watching Lance struggle and whine underneath him in his bed had made his groin quiver. He only wished they could move faster. He wanted to wait until Lance wanted it, and he would, but it was getting awfully difficult resisting the temptation. Lance knew it was inevitable, why couldn't he just give in already?  


He had seen how Lance could be on that night in the Bar. He had been the embodiment of sex then, had set Lotor’s blood on fire, had tempted everyone around him and enjoyed it. He was obviously throwing himself at the Red Paladin during their brief relationship, so why couldn’t he be that way with Lotor? How could someone make him feel so much and not feel the same way?

 

Instead Lance acted as if he was some kind of victim, which was ridiculous. Lance didn’t know the meaning of suffering. He had grown up with a loving family, and now denied Lotor the same, yet still somehow saw Lotor as the villain. Lance wasn’t suffering here. Here he was, sleeping in luxury with the Emperor! There were many who would kill for that! But Lance wasn’t grateful in the slightest. He only looked at Lotor in fear and disgust. And Lotor didn’t mind the fear, in fact he rather liked the fear, Lance did have to know his place after all, but the disgust he could not stand for.

 

But Lance wasn’t devoid of brains. He would realise in time. And he had nothing but time; Lance was never leaving this ship.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Lotor dreaded it was Haggar again, he was sick of her constant complaining. She had her uses, but the cons were starting to weigh out her pros.

 

Fortunately, a Guard he didn’t know the name of entered instead. Unfortunately, he looked panicked, and Lotor knew this couldn’t be good news.

 

“My Emperor, I am so sorry!”

 

“What is it?”

 

“I promise you this was not my doing, and we are already on the case of-”

 

“Tell your Emperor what the problem is, _now_.”

 

The Guard shook in fear, and stammered out the words: “Sire…the Blue Paladin has escaped his room. He’s gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually quite proud of how quickly I managed to write this chapter out! I hope you liked the brief little look into Lotor's psyche, I try not to write about him too much as I want him to remain unpredictable, but he's just so much fun to write!  
> Next time, we'll get to see how Lance escaped his room!


	9. Cat and Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's escape attempt is underway, will he make it out before Lotor catches him?

Lance had been in a crouching position for what felt like forever. Where the hell was Sorkal? Lance couldn’t let his guard down, he would only have one chance to get the jump on him…but still. His legs were tired.

 

Lance was leaving _today_. He didn’t care what it would take, and it would probably take barreling through multiple obstacles or guards in order to reach the Blue Lion. Probably finding an ordinary escape pod would be easier, but there was no way Lance was leaving Blue behind. Even if he had to fight through the whole ship. To be honest, if he made it, it would cement him as a really cool action hero. The other Paladins would never hear the end of it.

 

Eventually, he heard the beeping of the door being unlocked from the outside. Sorkal was here with his food. This was it.

 

Sorkal entered, looking bored at first, but then on spotting the bedpost, the bedpost that Lance was no longer handcuffed to, they looked around panicked. Only for a split second though, as Lance jumped out of his crouching position until he was in the air above Sorkal. Taking the item in his hand, he swung down as fast as he could, and being the sharpshooter he was, hit bullseye, smashing it clean over Sorkal’s skull.

 

Sorkal laid unconscious on the ground, the remnants of the lamp that Lance had used surrounding his head. That failed attempt with Lotor had been stuck on his brain. He was smashing that lamp over someone’s head, or he wasn’t the Blue Paladin.

 

As expected, he heard the commotion of another Guard outside, and jumped back in time to see them rush in. As Lance was prepared for this, he had the time before the Guard reached him to sweep his leg out, causing the Guard to stumble and fall. In their panic, the Guard had dropped their gun, and Lance grabbed it, bringing down the butt of it as hard as he could on their head. He wasn’t quite ready to kill someone yet. Knocking them out was enough.

 

Lance stared down at his handiwork, quite proud of himself. Serves them both right, for keeping him locked in with a madman. Luckily as both guards were inside the room, Lance simply had to close the door on them and then it seemed like there had been no fight at all.

 

“Operation Sharpshooter Escape” had begun.

 

Lance began to walk through the corridors, peeking around every corner to make sure there were no guards stationed there. The corridors seemed so much larger now that he was on his own. He dreaded the possibility that he would run into Lotor. He didn’t want to think of what would happen if he failed.

 

He didn’t have much time; at some point a guard would notice that there was no one stationed at his door, and they’d set off the alarms. Lance wanted to run, to get to the Blue Lion as quickly as possible, before that could happen. The problem was, he had very little idea of where he was going.

 

Lance tried to remember pathways, but he hadn’t been out of his room-Lotor’s room, he should say, considering he wasn’t staying there any longer- for ages. The only thing he knew to do was avoid the Throne room and the Arena. He wished Pidge was here now, she would be talking in his ear, telling him exactly where to go once she’d hacked the mainframe. He was excited to see her and the others soon. If he made it out.

 

It was especially hard to navigate considering he had to run in the opposite direction whenever he heard footsteps. Running into anyone would make his already small odds even smaller. He was thankful that he had memorised the trick Shiro taught him, to count out how long it took for guards to walk past, which made his journey around them a lot easier. He’d let Shiro know he’d used the trick once he saw him again. That would definitely make Shiro proud.

 

Lance tried to keep his eyes focused in the direction he was heading, but he occasionally glanced into the rooms he passed, as their doors were often open. There was a room with tubes and torture devices he hoped he would never find out the details of. There was a command room, with Galra inside, which Lance had to drag himself across the floor in order to sneak past. There was a room that looked like a ballroom. It was beautiful, Lance had to admit, with glittering silver walls. There was little in there, though, apart from a single orb, floating in the middle of the room. It was hard to pull his gaze away from it, but Lance had to keep moving.

 

There had to be a better way of finding Blue than wandering aimlessly. Like Allura said, they were connected, so maybe he could use that connection to find her! He tried his best to focus, but couldn’t sense anything. He closed his eyes to see if that would help. Where was she?

 

He took a deep breath. “Come on Blue, it’s Lancey Lance” he whispered, “I’m going to get you out of here, but I need you to guide me.” He waited, listening out for her. Suddenly, he felt a tugging sensation. It was weak, but definitely there. Lance kept his eyes closed, and walked around until he was sure of the direction the sensation was pulling him. That must have been where she was!

 

Lance walked through the corridors once more, this time with more purpose. He finally felt like he was making progress, when the alarms starting blaring, almost deafening him, and red flashing filled every direction. Ah, quiznack. “Operation Sharpshooter Escape” was facing some setbacks.

 

Well, maybe the alarms are for something else, Lance thought desperately, maybe Voltron was here! The idea filled him with joy, but that was crushed as soon as he turned a corner and ran into a group of soldiers.

 

Lance turned to run, avoiding gunfire and grabbing hands. He couldn’t get into a fight now, he had to focus on finding his Lion. But one of the soldiers was catching up to him, and Lance barely dodged in time when she took a swing.

 

“Looks like Lotor’s plaything doesn’t know he should stay in his room!” she taunted, swinging yet again. Lance threw himself into a tumble roll to avoid her blade. He didn’t have time to get up, however, as she pinned him to the ground with her foot. Even though she was smaller than the average Galra, she still weighed a ton.

 

“If I didn’t leave my room, I would have never met someone as beautiful as you,” said Lance, regretting that comment as soon as she saw her scowl. Now Lance could see that her blade wasn’t just a sword, it was her arm. The blade was curved to match the waviness of her short purple hair, and it glowing due to the intense heat radiating off of it. Lance wondered what the purpose of that was as he kicked her leg off of him. He found out the answer pretty quickly, as before he could properly stand up again her swinging finally made an impact, lightly slicing over Lance’s stomach.

 

Lance screamed in pain, stumbling backwards. That had hurt so much more than usual, but when Lance looked down, there was no blood, just some smoke coming off of a dark brown line. It seems that her blade cauterized any wound it made. She took advantage of his shock and kicked him in his side, knocking him over yet again, before lifting her blade to strike.

 

“Colonel Troque! Stop that this instance!” yelled another soldier suddenly, running over to them. Lance let out a sigh of relief. Thank God, she could’ve killed him.

 

“Emperor Lotor said not to hurt him badly!” The other soldier scolded, jumping between Lance and who he guessed was the one called Troque.

 

“And I haven’t, have I?” yelled Troque, “the wound’s cauterised, it ain’t gonna bleed-”

 

“It’s left a massive mark though, which is exactly what Lotor said he didn’t want!”

 

“Well, Lotor needs to realise that his little toy isn’t worth that much!”

 

“Do not disrespect the Emperor in such a manner! If he were here you-”

 

“Wait. Where is the runt?” The two soldiers looked around. Lance was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Shit!” cried Troque, grabbing the other by the throat. “We’ve lost him! Which way did he go!”

 

“I didn’t see, how should I know!?”

 

Little did they realise; their target was right above their heads. Lance listened to the Galran soldiers yelling about his escape, and through a crack in the vents he could see them run off looking for him. Seems he’d outsmarted them. No sweat for the genius sharpshooter that he was, obviously. Now he just had to find his way through the ventilation system. At least he’d be more hidden here.

 

But the vents were tiny, hard for even someone skinny as him to crawl through. They were even more confusing than the corridors, all looking exactly the same, cramped, dimly lit and swelteringly hot. Thankfully the cut on his stomach wasn’t that painful anymore, just a slight burning sensation. But now he found it difficult to breathe, and the panic at the increasing possibility (accompanied by the alarms) was making it even harder to fill his lungs properly. Lance had to take a moment to calm himself down. Now was not the time for another panic attack.

 

Following his Lion’s intuition, Lance reached an opening that Blue wanted him to slip through, which dropped him back into a corridor. Lance wandered through it, eventually coming to a door at the corridor’s end. It looked like a dead end, but Blue really wanted him to go this way. No point arguing with Lion logic. And with distant footsteps ringing in his ears, Lance had little other options. He quickly slipped inside.

 

As soon as the door closed behind him, the alarms became a distant sound. The room was massive and had a purple glow to it, not unlike most of the rooms here. However, instead of a dim glow, the light was almost neon, due to the large number of pods lined up in rows. They looked like healing pods, but were as tall as the ceiling and filled with bright purple liquid. Lance didn’t want to know what they were for. The way the pods had been placed turned the room into a maze; it was impossible to quickly walk through the place. Before he stepped foot into the maze, he wanted to make sure there was an actual direction he could head in. Using the ledges and attachments on one of the tubes, Lance climbed up as high as he could (which wasn’t very far, the pods were incredibly hard to grip onto) to see if there was a possible pathway. There was, but Lance doubted he would be able to remember it; he’d have to rely on his attachment to Blue. He could see a door at the far end of the room. That must be where Blue wanted him to go.

 

Lance began the trek. Despite the maze not being that big-it was probably the size of the one in the Castle of Lion’s training room-Lance was nervous about how long it was taking him to get through it, he had already taken 3 wrong turns and gotten lost before he'd managed to correct himself. He paused at every sound he heard, throwing himself against the pod’s sides to hide, but the sounds were only the creaking of the walls. He had to get a grip, but this place was freaky. Who the hell would need a room like this? Well, Lotor was a crazy creep, Lance figured he needed a room that matched.

 

Going this way was the best option, Lance realised, as this room was far off the direct path to the place where Blue was being held. They would expect him to go another easier route, so no one would think to find him here. But he worried about Blue. Lotor would know that Lance had escaped by now, would Blue be even more guarded? He hoped Haggar wasn’t using any awful magic on her. He couldn’t bear the torture he’d faced being done to Blue.

 

Lance was contemplating how he would be able to fly out of the ship once he was back in his Lion, when he heard the door opening. He couldn’t see the door, being too far into the maze, but the sound was distinct. Lance froze, and did his best to stay as quiet as possible. Obviously, he felt a sliver of panic run through him, but he tried not to be too on edge. It was most likely a guard doing a routine check; no one would think to look in this room, as long as he stayed still he wouldn’t-

 

“I know you’re in here, Lance.”

 

Lance’s blood ran cold. That voice. No, how the hell could Lotor know he was in here?

 

“I’ll admit that your earlier attempts at escape were… _endearing,_ at first, but attacking my guards? I’m afraid you have run my patience thin. It’s time to return to our room.”

 

Lance could hear Lotor’s footsteps, and felt himself lowering to the ground, more out of fear than anything. The smaller he made himself, the less likely Lotor could spot him, right? He wondered where Lotor could be now. Would he be at the beginning of the maze? Near the end? Lance didn’t know where anything was; it didn’t help how bright the light of the pods was, casting everything else in silhouette.

 

“You should know that there are multiple entrances to this maze, which you were too stupid to spot, Lance. Therefore, I could retrieve you from anywhere. There’s nowhere that you can hide.”

 

There really wasn’t. Lance knew he couldn’t stay in this spot; if Lotor knew he was in here, he had to get out before Lotor found out his exact position. As quietly as possible, agonisingly hearing every tiny sound he made, Lance slowly made to crouch up, to head to the door. He had to be close to it by now.

 

“If you’re thinking you can make it to the door, you’re sadly mistaken. Did you not think I would block off the other exits before letting you know I was in here?”

 

Wait, so Lotor had been in here beforehand? Shit shit shit. If he had been able to find Lance so easily, then obviously he knew Lance’s objective. The Blue Lion would be guarded far more heavily. “Operation Sharpshooter Escape” was over.

 

But Lance’s body wouldn’t let it be over. So when Lotor continued talking, Lance continued like he wasn’t there.

 

“I wouldn’t have become the ruler of an Empire had I not had some tactical skill. Now stop with this childish behaviour. Come here, _now_.”

 

Lance stayed where he was. No way would he give up so easily. Shiro had been spotted when he tried to escape, and he’d still made it out. Lance had to at least try. He tiptoed around a few corners, praying that Lotor wouldn’t be there waiting for him. The walls seemed to echo his voice, meaning he could be anywhere. It made it feel like Lotor was in his head.

 

“I expected you to be foolish enough not to return immediately, but not even a word? Speak up Lance, I thought I told you that when your Emperor speaks to you, you are expected to reply.”

 

Lance continued with the silent treatment, no matter how much he wanted to tell Lotor to go quiznack himself. If he spoke, he’d give away his exact location. But at this point, he felt like he was in a game of cat and mouse. He was trying to desperately get away, and he imagined Lotor circling him lazily, ready to pounce at any moment, but not doing so just to enjoy the mouse’s terror.

 

He heard Lotor’s footsteps. Shit. Lance could tell he was only around the corner; if he came any closer he’d see Lance. Lance pushed himself into a pod’s wall as hard as he could, as if he could sink into it. A footstep came closer. Lance closed his eyes, as if that would hold off the inevitable.

 

The footsteps paused. Maybe Lotor had turned the other way. Lance could feel every hair on the back of his neck stand up straight.

 

“Come out wherever you are…” sang Lotor, and Lance just knew the bastard was smirking. As if this was all a game to him, and not Lance’s freedom, his _sanity_ , on the line. As if Lotor realised the same thing, Lance heard a laugh come from nearby.

 

“Is that why you’re doing this? So I can toy with you? You're making this quite the habit, makes one think that you enjoy it.” Lance continued moving, trying to ignore his skin crawling. Of course Lotor would insinuate that he was doing this because he liked Lotor. The creep was just that deranged. At least he sounded further away now.

 

“If this is a game you wish to play, you must already know you won’t win. In fact, it almost feels like you’re doing this as a gift to me; we Galra do see hunting as an honourable pastime.”

 

The door must have been around the corner, Lance prayed it was just around the corner. Even if it was blocked, maybe there was still a way to get through it-

 

“I’ll enjoy hunting you, and I’ll enjoy making you suffer for even thinking you could get away.”

 

Fear wracked Lance’s body, stopping him in his tracks. He knew that was no empty threat.

 

Lotor seemed to be getting impatient with Lance’s lack of response. “Lance, say something.”

 

Lance stayed quiet. Maybe Lotor was just bluffing. Please God let him be bluffing.

 

_“LANCE!”_

 

Lance flinched and had to stifle his whimper.

 

“Fine,” said Lotor through gritted teeth, “then let the game begin.” Lance had to go _now._

 

“I know you’re behind the 35th pod.” Oh God. This was it.

 

“I’ll give you one chance, Lance, before I take reasonable action. I’m hoping you’ll speak up and surrender now, to keep some of your dignity. Make the choice.”

 

Instead of choosing dignity, Lance chose to run. He could immediately hear Lotor’s pounding footsteps nearby. The cat and mouse game had begun.

 

Lance spotted Lotor in the corner of his eye, the sight was hard to distinguish with the harsh light the pods gave off, but Lance could see enough to know he had to run faster. He ran around whatever corner he could find, hoping to throw Lotor off his trail, all the while trying to keep heading nearer to the exit.

 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t is Lance?” He could hear Lotor laugh behind him. Lotor was only panting a little from the chase, nothing compared to Lance’s about-to-hyperventilate state. Lance turned a corner, only to see Lotor heading right for him, causing him to shriek and run the other way. Lotor really was toying with him.

 

Maybe if Lance had admitted he was there, done what Lotor wanted, his inevitable punishment would be easier. Maybe that would have been the smart thing to do. But like Lotor said, he was just stupid, wasn’t he? Lance frantically shook his head. No, now was not the time for self-loathing. And it was far too late to fix his mistake.

 

He saw a silhouette getting closer to him, a silhouette that could only belong to one person, and his terror put his legs on autopilot. He yelled and ran in any direction he could, mentally calling out for Blue to come save him. She had to be close to him now, he could see the end of the maze and-

 

The door! He could see the door! If he just got out of here, he could break into a full sprint. True, Lotor had faster reflexes than him, but Lance knew he himself was a fast runner, especially at long distances. Once he had the space, he could outrun Lotor. He raced to the door, still hearing Lotor behind him, getting closer. Despite Lotor saying the exit was blocked, Lance had no trouble opening the door and running-

 

Straight into Sentries.

 

Lance had no time to pull back before they grabbed him, wrenching his arms behind his back and forcing him onto his knees. His panicked struggling did nothing to help him.

 

There was a part of him that was thankful; at least he didn’t have to get manhandled by Lotor again. But he was still forced to watch as Lotor exited the maze and made his way over, not stopping until he was towering over Lance. His face was different than his voice had sounded. This was a face that would have murdered Lance if looks could kill. If Lance was to survive in here, he had to find some sense of consistency with this guy.

 

Lotor reached out as if to grab Lance’s face. Lance recoiled as far as the Sentries would allow, which only made Lotor glare harder. But then his expression neutralised.

 

“You’re right. This is not the place. Guards, take him back to my room, where I can deal with him properly.”

 

The Sentries looked to one another. “Emperor Lotor, would you not prefer a cell for him? This one has clearly violated the-”

 

“I gave you your orders. A cell is not fitting for the punishment the boy shall receive.” Lance dreaded to think of what awaited him.

 

“Of course, my apologies, your Highness.”

 

“Knock him out, I don’t want him conscious until I’m there. First, I must deal with a useless subordinate.”

 

Lance had no time to ponder that statement, before a gun came down on his head, making everything go black.

 

He'd failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh poor Lance he was so close! He just wanted to see his friends again! Pity that Lotor will never let that happen.
> 
> I worry that this chapter's writing may not be very good, as I'm running on very little sleep right now haha. I apologise for not getting this chapter out sooner, but I've had some essays to hand in, applications to send out, writing competitions to enter, it's been a busy 2 weeks. Also, whatever free time I had I wanted to spend with my family since it was Christmas, you know how it is. 
> 
> I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season, and have a happy new year!


	10. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor makes sure that Lance doesn't try to escape again.
> 
> Trigger warning: This chapter is not a fun time. Physical and emotional violence happens. There's also noncon stuff in this, not full on rape but Lance is definitely sexually assaulted.

“Lance? Mi niño, where are you?” 

 

Lance’s father strode into his room, swivelling his head to spot where he was. Lance was laid in bed, holding a comic up to his face.

 

“Your mom has called you for dinner five times now, why are you ignoring her?” his dad said sternly.

 

“Sorry pop-pop, I’m not ignoring her, I’m just not hungry.” Lance didn’t remove the comic from his face.

 

“Not hungry? But it’s garlic knots, your favourite!”

 

“I said I’m not hungry.”

 

“In all my life, you’ve never not been hungry. What’s wrong?”

 

“ _Nothing,_ dad.”

 

“Don’t take that tone with me young man, I’m only asking. And could you put down that comic while I’m talking to you?” When Lance didn’t respond, his dad strode over and yanked it away.

 

Lance desperately tried to cover his face, but his dad saw the black eye before he could hide it. He held Lance’s head still while he inspected it.

 

“Who did this?” He asked seriously.

 

“No one, dad, I just-”

 

“Who did this Lance?!?” he pressed, tears filling his eyes.

 

Lance sighed. “Me and Griffin got into a fight. He said I’d never be anything than a cargo pilot, and then-”

 

“James Griffin did this? I’ve had it up to here with that kid, I’m calling that place right now and-”

 

“No dad, there’s no point, I-”

 

“I can get Marco to come and give that kid a good talking to, if you know what I mean.”

 

“Dad.”

 

“No, you’re, right, I’ll just go over there myself, I’ve got two good fists-”

 

“Dad!”

 

“What is it son? Does it hurt, do I need to get your mother?”

 

“No, don’t tell mom, dad, it’s fine.”

 

“How? How is this fine?”

 

“Because he only managed to get one punch in before I kicked him in the nuts. He ran off crying. And since he started it, Iverson wasn’t mad at me.”

 

His dad paused, before breaking into laughter. “Oh, my little soldier, why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” his dad said, relief filling his features. His weight sank onto the bed beside Lance.

 

“I didn’t want you to be mad. Or worried.”

 

“Of course we’re going to worry, that’s our job. And while I don’t condone violence, I must say…” he leaned in close to whisper, “that snobby little shithead had it coming.”

 

Lance let out a snort. His dad rarely ever swore. “Dad! I’m going to tell mom you just said that!”

 

His dad let out a hearty laugh, and patted Lance on the back. “I think she’ll be more concerned about your face, my boy!”

 

Lance didn’t laugh along, sighing instead. “Mom’s going to go crazy, isn’t she?”

 

“She won’t, she…yeah, you’re right, she will.” His dad smiled sympathetically. “I’ll bring you some food up. Say you’re feeling ill.”

 

“Thanks, pop-pop,” said Lance gratefully, “You won’t tell her?”

 

His dad rose from the bed, and ruffled Lance’s hair. “Nah, we don’t wanna stress her out. That woman already has too much on her plate. Your old man’s got your back. I’ll always be here to cover you.”

 

* * *

 

 

He wasn’t here now. But the thought comforted him. Braced him for what was to come.

 

He was sat on the edge of the bed, staying as still as he could while Lotor paced up and down. The more Lotor paced, the angrier his face looked, but Lance didn’t dare disturb him. His hands were free; Lotor had un-cuffed both of them (having both hands tied was now the new routine Lance guessed) but he still felt just as vulnerable.

 

Finally, Lotor stopped. He took a deep breath, but didn’t look at Lance.

 

“Let’s start this off easy, shall we? I want you to apologise.”

 

“What?” asked Lance in a voice he didn’t know he still possessed.

 

“You have damaged my soldiers, my mattress, and have been a blight on the Empire with your little display. Apologise, _now_.”

 

There was no way Lance would ever apologise. He was terrified, his fight-or-flight muscles screaming, but Lance would never forgive _himself_ if he ever begged Lotor to forgive him.

 

“No.”

 

“Apologise, or I will break you down until you do.”

 

“What are you gonna do? Monologue at me agai-” Lance was cut off by Lotor’s sharp backhanded slap. It was powerful enough to knock Lance onto the floor, and Lance had to take a moment until the ringing in his head stopped.

 

“I’d advise you to leave the jokes behind if you know what’s good for you.”

 

Lance glared at him, still on the floor. “What’s good for me is to be away from you! If I’m so much trouble, you should have just let me go!”

 

“You think letting you go is ever an option? Don’t be idiotic, what kind of Emperor just lets his consort go?”

 

“You won’t be an Emperor for much longer. Voltron will stop you, just like they stopped the last Emperor!”

 

“Voltron may have been able to defeat my father, but I am nothing like him.”

 

“Oh please, with the violence you’ve displayed, you’re _exactly_ like your father!”

 

Lance knew that sentence was a mistake as soon as it had left his mouth. Rage filled Lotor’s features, and he advanced towards Lance. Lance scrambled backwards, grabbing anything he could; tables, vases, and threw them at Lotor to keep him at bay, while he moved towards the door. This was becoming a real habit of his. And again, he was stopped. Lotor grabbed his hair, growling in fury, and dragged Lance along the floor until Lance, yelling whatever obscenities he could, managed to sweep one of his legs towards Lotor, Lotor leaping back to narrowly avoid it.

 

“You’re very fond of using your legs, aren’t you?” Lotor snarled. “Well, you’re not the only one!” He kicked hard into Lance’s stomach, sending him flying back, his head hitting the door. Lance slumped, winded, but Lotor wasn’t done. He stood over Lance’s position at the door, and rose his foot up, bringing it down hard on Lance’s knee.

Lance heard it before he felt it; that awful crack that could only signify one thing. His body hadn’t fully registered the pain before Lotor brought his foot down again on Lance’s other leg. And then both were filled with such a fire that it made Lance scream louder than he thought possible. He scrunched his eyes close, trying to get a hold of anything that wasn’t agony, but he couldn’t. He thought he was going to vomit, the pain was so bad.

“I believe this will solve your little running away problem. One can’t run with broken legs, can they?”

 

Lotor couched down to Lance’s level, and kept Lance pinned with a hand to his chest as Lance hurled out every insult he could think of once he could focus more clearly.

“You’re sick, you’re pathetic, cleary the only way you can get anyone to be with you is by breaking their legs!” He forced out a pained grin, knowing his next comment would piss Lotor off, “Keith never had to do that.”

Lotor replied with a lecherous smile, his eyes holding cold fury. “Oh, allow me to show you how I keep my lovers with me.” His fingers began to creep underneath Lance’s shirt.

 

Lance’s prepared insult died in his throat, and instead out came, “No, no Lotor don’t-”

 

His single moment of vulnerability gave Lotor something to grasp onto, and he clearly wasn’t about to let go, his hand trailing further and further up Lance’s chest as his other hand easily lifted Lance upright, ignoring Lance’s shriek as his weight was placed on his broken legs.

 

“If this is what it takes for you to learn, then I’ll gladly oblige.”

 

Lance was currently in too much pain to fight him off, and Lotor took that chance to move in closer, pressing Lance against the door, caging him in.

 

Lance managed to focus himself again, his legs becoming slightly more used to their position, and turned his attention to the real problem. What little was left of the colour in his face drained as he saw how trapped he was. He grabbed Lotor’s wandering hand by the wrist, terrified of where this was leading. “Lotor, stop, p-” he quickly stopped himself before he said please. It was a reflex, Lance couldn’t blame himself for that, but it would take a hell of a lot more before Lance begged the Galran Emperor for anything.

 

Lotor of course didn’t stop, his touch burning Lance’s skin until his fingers grazed over the wound that Torque had made on his stomach. Lotor frowned, lifting his shirt up to inspect the mark. “This needs to be remedied.”

 

Sure, it was fine that he had broken legs, but a potential scar was unacceptable. Classic Lotor logic.

 

“But that can be done later. You need to learn your lesson, Lance. You’re lucky I don’t have you killed.”

 

“Then why don’t you?” Lance challenged. “Do you not have the guts or something?”

 

Lotor’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned in close enough for Lance to flinch back. “Because in death, what use would you have to me?” Lotor’s hand had left its place underneath Lance’s shirt, but it still rested threateningly on the waistband of Lance’s trousers.

 

“I’ve done my best to respect your boundaries,” said Lotor, “I gave you time, but you have thrown that all away. I think you need to realise that you are only able to refuse me because I have allowed you to do so.” Lotor’s hand grazed lower, until it was resting over Lance’s clothed member. “Perhaps I should take that choice away. You clearly don’t deserve it.”

 

Lance’s stomach dropped. “Wait-wait don’t!” he cried, as Lotor’s hand pressed down harder, and began to slowly rub up and down. Lance tried to reflexively kick out, only to wince in pain at the reminder of his broken legs. He was suddenly filled with a primal fear, tears springing to his eyes. Lotor had appeared insane at every moment of him being here, but his current expression transported Lance back to that very first day they spent together, and it terrified him. Lotor had said _this_ , whatever the hell that was happening right now, was going to be Lance’s choice. Maybe he’d made Lotor so angry that he didn’t care anymore.

 

“You said you wouldn’t, y-you said you would wait until I-” Lance was quietened by his own gasp as Lotor’s tongue appeared at his neck. It roughly trailed circles as Lotor’s free hand tugged at Lance’s hair to get better access. Lance quickly rose his arms to push at Lotor’s chest, but he was in too close proximity for it to be affective. Nor did Lotor seem bothered by Lance’s flailing.

 

Despite the furious look on his face, Lotor was clearly enjoying his panic. He buried himself in the crook of Lance’s neck, inhaling deeply, absorbing all of Lance’s fear. “It’s funny, you never seem willing but that night at the bar you were so _very_ eager.” He growled against Lance’s skin. He pushed his body closer to Lance’s, as his hand continued its ministrations.

 

“Nothing even happened at the bar!” he screamed, thrashing as hard as he could, trying and failing to stop a tear from running down his cheek. “We only talked, that was it!”

 

“I told you; do not lie to me Lance. You cannot entice someone and not expect consequences,” said Lotor breathlessly, like a man starved. Clearly Lotor was eager to show those consequences, as his tongue had curled around Lance’s earlobe.

 

Lance could feel Lotor’s attentions having an effect on his body, could feel a whimper coming at the base of his throat, and it made him feel sick, even more so than the pain had. He didn’t want this. There was no extent to how much he didn’t want this. But he wasn’t strong enough to push Lotor away, and Lotor was growing more eager as he felt Lance’s body react. Desperately, Lance tried to picture himself in another situation. Perhaps if he imagined Keith was doing this, it would be less terrifying. But he and Keith had never gone this far before; Lance had no frame of reference. And if Lance had been as uncomfortable as he was, Keith would stop. Keith would never do this to him.

 

But now Lotor was trying to replace Keith, and Lance’s fury at that caused him to yell, “Get off me you sick fuck! I don’t want you! I’m with Keith, get that through your head!”

 

Lotor stopped, and said simply, “You _were_ with Keith. The Red Paladin is dead, he is nothing to us now.”

 

That statement felt like a sucker punch. As did Lotor’s sudden stillness. Despite Lance’s yell having its desired effect, now Lance worried what he would do. If mentioning Keith bothered Lotor enough to stop, then what would be an even graver punishment for mentioning him? There was a moment in which the two of them did nothing but pant heavily, as a thought crossed Lotor’s mind.

 

“In fact, why don’t we watch it?”

 

“What?”

 

Lotor didn’t answer his question, instead picking Lance up and dragging him to a small screen on the other side of the room. Lance barely had time to register what was happening as Lotor roughly swivelled him around, so that his back was pressed to Lotor’s chest, a hand secured around his neck to keep him in place.

 

The screen came to life, and Lance watched as footage began to play. Horror grew in his stomach as he realised what this was. The footage was blurred and grainy, but there was no mistake. He'd recognise that mullet anywhere. It was Keith, on that planet. On the day that he died.

 

“Well here you go, if you’re so desperate to see him, now you can watch his death over and over again!”

 

Lance was right to dread what Lotor was planning. The footage played out, but Lance couldn’t bear to watch it, not when he knew exactly what was coming. Hearing Keith yell his name in the video, he tried to twist out of Lotor’s grip, or turn his head away from the screen, but Lotor wasn’t having it. He grabbed Lance’s chin tightly, forcing him to face the screen.

 

“Come on Lance, let’s watch closely shall we, as the Red Paladin gets what he deserves.”

 

“Let go of me, I don’t want to see this, please!”

Every glance at Keith’s face felt like a punch to the gut. He had completely forgotten about the pain in his legs, transfixed with sorrow at the screen. He watched as Keith ran towards the ship, and nothing could prepare him for seeing the blast surround Keith, fire enveloping his armour. He heard the explosion, and Keith's scream.

 

“No, no, KEITH!” Lance screamed. He had been lucky enough not to see the full event when he was there himself, but now Lotor wanted him to watch every moment.

 

Lance choked as a sob rose in his throat, and fresh tears ran freely down his face. But Lotor wasn’t done. He rewound the footage, made Lance watch it again and again, and Lance screamed with anguish every time.

 

Grief wracked his body as Keith’s was burned again, and it was an agony Lance had never experienced before. He felt a panic attack creep up again, black spots forming at the edge of his vision as he struggled to breathe through his tears.

“Please stop.” He sobbed. Lotor was too furious to hold any sympathy.

 

“You wanted to talk about him, didn’t you?! I’m just doing what _you want_ , Lance!” Exclaimed Lotor though gritted teeth. Despite this being a punishment that _he_ was inflicting, even through his anguish he could see that Lotor wasn’t seeming to enjoy himself. At least not as much as he had during what they had been doing previously. Once again, Keith died.

 

“Just stop it! You’ve made your point!”

“Maybe this was why Voltron was so ready to abandon you. All you brought to them was suffering and failure.” He whispered into Lance’s ear, as if insidiously trying to implant the thought into his brain.

 

It seemed like the grief he had worked so hard to fight off was finally here, and it was worse than he could have ever imagined. Lance had held onto the hope that maybe Keith was still alive, that his eyes had just deceived him that day, even if it was a fool’s hope. But this footage, despite how grainy it was, made it real. It was happening all over again, right in front of him. Keith was dead, and it made Lance ache.

 

“Please stop,” he groaned. His cheeks were stained with tears. His body had slumped in Lotor’s grasp, any fighting energy he had left in him today was gone. On the screen, Keith died yet again.

 

“I decide when we stop, Lance,” said Lotor, holding onto Lance even tighter.

 

Lance couldn’t take any more of this. It was worse than the torture. He had to stop this himself, even if it meant giving up even more of his dignity. He knew what Lotor wanted.

 

“I’m sorry.” he said, in the smallest voice he had ever heard himself speak.

 

There was an immediate change in Lotor’s body language. “What was that?” he said, obviously wanting Lance to repeat it for his own sick enjoyment.

 

“I’m sorry.” Lance closed his eyes, not bearing to look at anything while he apologised to the man who had just beaten and molested him.

 

“Sorry for what?”

 

The bastard was dragging this out, but Lance was too emotionally exhausted to care. “I’m sorry for trying to escape. I won’t do it again.”

 

Lance could feel Lotor smile beside him. “Good boy.” Thankfully, he turned the screen off, and Lance sighed in relief as silence filled the room.

 

“That piece of scum died because of you. As will others if you refuse to behave. Never forget that.” Lotor’s statement hung in the air as Lance attempted to regain his breath in between final sobs. Lotor didn’t release his grip from Lance’s face. They stayed like that for several moments.

 

 “Why?” Lance finally managed to choke out through his tears.

 

“I just told you why. He was a worthless rat who-”

 

“No, I don’t mean that. I know you killed him because of me. I’m asking…why me? Why are you doing this to me?” Lotor looked at him, as if shocked that Lance had asked this. “You’re an Emperor, you could have anyone from the Empire. Hell, if this is just some weird power thing, then there are plenty of people in the Rebellion better than me. I’m just a boy from Cuba. I’m not worth this.” Spilling his insecurities to Lotor was probably not the best idea, but Lance needed answers. He looked to Lotor, trying to see any sense of logic through his tears.

 

Lotor had paused, and took the moment to wipe a tear from Lance’s cheek. “I don’t know why,” he said, “Often I think the same thing. Your behaviour during your time here has shown that you are idiotic, savage, and not worth anyone’s time. Your pitiful attempts at escape also prove that you weren’t a worthwhile member of Voltron either.” Lance would have been insulted by that, but he was too enraptured by Lotor’s confession. There was a vulnerability to his voice, which was jarring after such terrifying rage.

 

“You’re no one special. You’re nothing. But…” Lotor twisted his grip on Lance so that Lance had no choice but to be face-to-face with him. “You have this effect on me. This is _your_ doing. As I said before, you cannot entice someone and not expect consequences.” Lotor wiped away more of Lance’s tears, this time allowing his hand to rest on Lance’s cheek, and Lance was trapped in his gaze as he leant in closer.

 

“ _You_ have done this to _me_. And you shouldn’t be able to. I know you shouldn’t. But you have.” Lotor was _very_ close now; Lance could feel his breath on his lips. “You’re nothing. But not to me.”

 

Lance realised where Lotor was attempting to steer this conversation, and wrenched his head back in panic, only allowing Lotor’s lips to barely graze his. Disappointment flashed across Lotor’s face, and he let go of Lance, letting him buckle on his broken legs, and fall forward to the ground with a cry of pain. Lotor pushed his long white hair back, composing himself. “You’ll be getting a new guard. Do not attack him, or your punishment will be even graver.”

 

“What happened to Sorkal?” asked Lance from the floor.

 

“They let you escape on their watch. I have no use for such useless subordinates in my Empire. They have faced recompense.” Lotor said no more on the subject, but Lance saw the flash of death in Lotor’s eyes. “Now, do not think that your punishment is over, but I hope our little talk has made you see some sense,” he strode over to Lance’s head, kneeling down. Lance turned his eyes away, but Lotor’s grip on his chin brought his gaze back. His touch felt like acid. “I can call for someone to take you to the infirmary, but only if you are willing to receive help. You have to understand that I am doing for what’s best for you, but I can’t do that unless you open your mind to the possibilities. Can you do that for me, Lance?”

 

If it meant Lotor would leave him alone right now, Lance could at least pretend to understand. He gave a small nod, which was enough to make Lotor smile. He tucked some of Lance’s hair behind his ear, an attempt at praise, and pressed a button on his wrist. Almost instantly Guards entered the room, and Lotor gently lifted Lance up, guiding him to them. It was comical how gentle he was, almost as if he hadn’t been the one to break Lance’s legs in the first place.

 

But Lance was in too much pain and grief to care. He welcomed the guards who took him into the healing pods, welcomed the embrace of sleep within the pod. And when he awoke, already back in his bed, he welcomed the feeling of a hand tracing up and down his arm. He pushed away the thought of who that hand belonged to, and welcomed its attempt of lulling him back to sleep.

 

He wanted to dream of his dad again. He wanted to dream of when he was safe with him.

 

But all he could dream of was Keith’s face and fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Lance still has some fighting spirit left! He's just been through a lot, as you can see. But don't worry, Voltron is on the way! (In like 2 chapters lol)
> 
> I'm guessing that this fic is gonna be like 35 chapters long, so we've got a long way to go!
> 
> For those who believe Keith is still alive, sorry, this chapter may be tough for you :(
> 
> Thank you for all of your wonderful comments, they mean so much!
> 
> p.s props to you if you spotted the reylo refrence lmao


	11. No Hard Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance deals with his grief, while Haggar makes other problems.

It had been a long while since his escape attempt, and Lance had been punished the whole time.

 

Not by Lotor, though the stronger cuffs on both hands, and extra guards outside the door hinted at his displeasure. It was grief that had tormented Lance. Even though his body had healed, his mind was still damaged. His head ached with so much emotion that it had sucked the life out of the rest of him.

 

He’d let Keith die. He’d failed to get out. Keith was dead. Lance wasn’t Shiro; he wasn’t strong enough to escape. Keith was dead. He might never see his friends or family ever again. Keith was dead. Keith was _dead._

 

Lance could only describe himself as depressed. He didn’t have any desire to move, or think. Thinking only made the image of Keith and fire come forth again. He knew it had been a while since he tried to escape, but he was too upset to know exactly how long it had been. A week? A month? A year? He didn’t care.

 

A new guard came in with his meals at random times. Lance didn’t even try to remember his name. Why bother? Lotor would only end up executing this one as well.

 

Lotor had rarely been in here either, except at night. Lance’s body was too depressed to bother shoving him away. Not that he could of if he’d been at full strength, after his escape attempt Lotor held him even tighter in sleep, as if afraid Lance would slip through his fingers again. Thankfully he hadn’t tried anything overtly sexual again, but Lance was constantly expecting him to pounce.

  
Was this how it was going to be? Lotor assaulting him over and over, Keith’s death constantly hanging over his head until he was a shell of a person? He’d seen those types of people before. With Voltron, they’d freed many people, but that didn’t mean they’d saved them. By the time they were rescued, some people were just too damaged.

 

The thought of the other Paladin’s finding him like that (if they were ever coming to rescue him) was awful enough to keep him slightly above water. But he still felt like he was on the edge of drowning, and Lotor was waiting below the depths, ready to drag him down into the abyss.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Speak of the Devil. Lotor strode in, looking slightly annoyed. While Lance was always happy to see Lotor’s displeasure, he hoped that annoyance wouldn’t be directed at him.

 

Lotor looked over at him, giving him a glance over in the perverse way that was seeming to become a habit for him, then said, “Lance, there’s something I need you to do. Obviously you’re not busy.” Of course he wasn’t. Being tied to a bed hardly counted as a social life.

 

“Lance?”

 

Ugh, what did he want now? Another round of fighting? Lance didn’t respond. Even if Lotor would get annoyed, Lance was too tired to care.

 

But instead, Lotor walked over to him, and studied his face with a look of…concern? Lance couldn’t tell why. Lotor had _done_ this to him. Surely, he would be satisfied about Lance’s current state.

 

Apparently not, for Lotor began to undo his cuffs, giving his wrists a sympathetic rub, which he’d started doing consistently ever since both of Lance’s hands were tied. He then gave Lance’s arms a gentle tug.

 

“Come on. We’re taking a walk. You need to get out of this room.”

 

Lance was immediately hesitant. If Lotor was taking him out of the room, that must obviously mean torture, or dinner together, or…Lance couldn’t think of a third thing but it obviously wouldn’t be good.

 

Lotor, sensing his apprehension, sighed. “Just stand up and come with me. I haven’t forgiven you yet for that little stunt you pulled, so it’s best to do what I say.”

 

Lance couldn’t agree more. While he certainly hadn’t given up the thought of escape, Lotor was too sensitive right now to try anything. Besides, right now he was too depressed to do anything rebellious. So Lance forced himself to his feet with help from Lotor, and trudged after him. He was a little surprised when Lotor allowed him outside of the room without handcuffs, but not a lot. By this point both of them knew it was pointless.

 

Lotor did however keep a hand on his shoulder the whole time, for multiple purposes. Firstly, to guide Lance through the same never-ending corridors that were now starting to make him dizzy with how much he’d had to stare at the same looking walls. Secondly, as a threat, to discourage Lance from running. Lotor was serious about not forgiving him yet, if the claws digging into his skin signified anything. Thirdly, and probably the worst, was that with Lotor standing on the other side of him, it looked as though his arm was around Lance. They looked like an actual couple. Lance hated that.

 

It seemed like the surrounding Galra hated it too. Whenever the two of them would pass stationed Guards, they would glance at the hand on Lance’s shoulder, and shoot him a look of disdain. They obviously didn’t want a Paladin of Voltron as Lotor’s consort. Lance wanted to assure them that he didn’t want that either, and would happily oblige to their wishes, if only Lotor would let go of him. No soldiers seemed brave enough to show outright disgust anyway, and if they wished to voice their concern, Lotor’s presence was enough to silence them.

 

Lance thought Lotor hadn’t noticed; didn’t care enough to notice, but his thought was proven wrong when Lotor softly said to him, “Pay them no mind.”

 

Despite his saddened state, Lance internally snorted. It wasn’t like he was desperately seeking the approval of the Galran Empire. “It’s no problem, I didn’t expect the enemy to warm up to me anytime soon.”

 

“They’re not your enemy anymore, Lance. You’re here with us now.”

 

“Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I’m with the Empire. I don’t agree with anything that the Empire does.”

 

“You don’t have to have the same ideologies, you just have to stand alongside me. If a clash of political stances will be a problem for you, I could always have the Druids help remedy that.” Lance did his best to hide his shudder. Especially now he knew that Lotor didn’t make empty threats. Brainwashing was not something he was eager to try out.

 

Once they reached their destination, Lance realised it was the ship’s hanger. Fighter jets and escape pods filled the gigantic room, and in the centre, was the Blue Lion, her shield glowing softly around her. Lance was ecstatic to see her, but also extremely upset. He didn’t want her to be trapped here as well. Lance knew that the Lions were capable of flying on their own accord, and yet the Blue Lion hadn’t made any attempts to fly away. Lance wished she would, but there was no point in arguing with Blue, because he knew the reason why she remained here. He was the Blue Paladin. She stayed because of him. His frustration at his failed escape attempt reared its head again. If he’d succeeded, she wouldn’t be trapped here with him. She wouldn’t be _suffering,_ because of him.

 

And the cause of her suffering was right there too. In front of the Blue Lion, standing on the edges of an intricately designed ritual circle, stood Haggar and the Druids.

 

Panicked, Lance turned to Lotor. “You said that-”

 

“Don’t worry, they’re only here as a precaution.” Lotor didn’t look that happy to see them either, “Make it quick, Haggar.”

 

Haggar gestured to the Druids, who began mumbling and motioning in ominous ways.

 

“Lotor, what is this?” said Lance, doing his best to keep the fear out of his voice.

 

“Consider this another punishment. I still haven’t forgiven you.”

 

That wasn’t really the answer to his question, but by now Lance had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen. If Blue’s shield was up now, it must have been up the whole time she was here. They wanted him to open the Lion.

 

He knew what that would entail. More of Haggar’s magic. And this time he wouldn’t be the only victim.

  
“No, no, no, I won’t do it,” said Lance, beginning to stumble back.

 

Lotor, sensing his fear, took hold of both his shoulders and pushed him forward. “Shh, it's okay,” he whispered, but it was far from comforting. The way he whispered it into Lance’s ears, Lance knew this was to make him more afraid.

 

There was a part of Lance that felt self-conscious, now being stood by himself in the middle of a circle, with everyone watching him. But of course he had more important things to worry about, namely the Blue Lion next to him.

 

He wanted to apologise to her, but knew that they couldn’t fully connect with one another right now. In fact, the whole time Lance had been here, he had felt their connection grow fainter and fainter. But still, they were able to understand each other with one look. It was brief, they understood why, they couldn’t have too open a pathway that Haggar could exploit. A look was all they needed to understand the other’s pain. The blue lion creaked. She was crying for him. Lance almost cried for her too.

 

“Don’t cry, Blue. Lancey Lance is okay,” he whispered.

 

Haggar gestured for the ritual to begin. “Open the Lion.” Haggar ordered.

 

Like hell he would. “That’s not up to me. She won’t.”

 

“She will if you tell her.”

 

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have that power over her. Besides, she knows I don’t want her to, so even if I told her to, she wouldn’t do it.”

 

Haggar glared, and raised her hand menacingly, magic crackling at her fingertips. “Fine. Then I will make you want her to.”

 

Bolts of her power suddenly enveloped Lance. Lance shuddered and grunted, but through the blinding light he managed to catch Haggar’s eyes, and forced out the words, “I won’t let you hurt her.” Haggar’s only response was to bark out an order to the other Druids, who shot Lance with the same lighting.

 

This type of magic was weird, Lance noticed. He wasn’t screaming. It was painful, but not agonizing. The problem was that it felt like his chest was being crushed, like the life was being dragged from him slowly. As if on cue, visions seemed to flash before his eyes. Was Haggar tampering with his mind? Lance wasn’t sure, because while there were visions of Blue, none were of her inner workings or secrets. They were only happy memories, like when Lance would wash and polish her, or when they would go swimming together.

 

Even weirder, there were visions of Keith. Memories of their love.

 

Why was Keith here? True, his mind had thought of nothing but Keith lately, but this had nothing to do with him. Was Keith watching him? Lance wasn’t sure if he believed in heaven, but if it did exist, it was both a comfort to think that Keith was watching over him, but also a curse. He didn’t want Keith to see him like this.

 

“Open the Lion, Paladin!” Haggar roared.

 

Was this punishment from Keith? Would Keith blame him for his death? No, of course he wouldn’t, Keith was too kind to do that, but Lance still blamed himself.

 

“Lotor, why won’t your pet just do what he’s told?!” Haggar yelled in frustration, focusing her power even more on Lance, who still refused to open the Lion.

 

“The things people do for love, I guess.” Said Lotor. The casualness of his voice was betrayed by the annoyed look on his face. But what he said had Lance thinking again of Keith, and flashes of another memory came before his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you insane?” Exclaimed Lance, staring at Keith with disbelief.

 

“You’re one to talk, just last week you stood up in front of the whole coalition and sang a crappy love song to me!”

 

“Okay, _firstly_ , “Hero” by Enrique Iglesias is not crappy, it’s the highest form of art. And _secondly_ , singing you a song is not the same as battling in a gladiator fight to win me some flowers!”

 

“But they’re special flowers, the guy said so!”

 

Lance stared at the flowers in his hands. They were beautiful, yes, and had Keith gotten them by conventional methods, Lance would have been delighted. But they weren’t worth Keith’s life.

 

“Okay, if they’re so special, then what do they do?”

 

“Well, they…they have...they...pretty.”

 

“I’m sorry, they pretty?”

 

“Yes, they pretty!” yelled Keith, determined to stand his badly grammared ground. “If you don’t want them I’ll just get rid of them.”

 

“Oh no, no, no,” said Lance, avoiding Keith’s grabbing hands. “I think they pretty too,” Keith scowled at his phrasing, “but they weren’t worth getting into a fight. I was terrified you’d get hurt.” That finally seemed to get the message through to Keith, who looked down at the ground.

 

“I just...I just wanted to get you something nice.” Keith’s voice was suddenly small. Lance could tell by the way he was shifting and fiddling with his hands that he wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to say it. But Lance appreciated the fact that Keith was thinking this over. Before, Keith would have either blurted out some tactless thing or not have said anything at all.

 

“What is it, Keith? What’s this really about?”

 

“I…we never get to spend time together anymore. We’re always fighting the Galra, always on missions.”

 

“But we get to see each other on missions.”

 

“You know it’s not the same.” He was right. It wasn’t. They never got to say the things they wanted when everyone else was there, “and with the missions getting more and more dangerous, I just…I wanted to make you happy.”

 

Lance smiled. As gruff as Keith could be, he was soft in how he wasn’t afraid to say how he really felt. Since Keith had done the talking, Lance had felt it was his job to do the hugging.

 

They stayed that way for a while, in the hall of the Castle of Lions, holding each other as if it was the last time they’d ever do that. Keith always smelled like grease or dirt, but it was comforting. And as much as he used to detest the mullet, it really was growing on him, as he could thread it through his fingers easily as they remained embraced.

 

“Thank you for the flowers, Keith. I’m sorry I yelled.”

 

“Technically, you _were_ right. I shouldn’t have yelled back. No hard feelings?”

 

“No hard feelings. And I’m singing “Accidentally in Love” at the next Coalition meeting.”

 

“Don’t you dare, jackass.”

 

* * *

 

 

“FOOL! OPEN THE LION!”

 

Haggar’s yelling brought Lance back to reality. The pain enveloped his chest yet again as he shut down any thoughts of opening the Lion. Because he could never do that, not with Keith and Blue watching. But he couldn’t think of them; that would only give the Druids something to toy with. But the visions wouldn’t stop, memories of Blue, Keith, the other Lions, the other Paladins, Hunk, Pidge, Coran, Allura, Shiro, all fluttering through his mind.

 

But the one phrase that was a constant was, “No hard feelings.”

 

That was the way he and Keith always made up after a fight. Why was he thinking of this now? He couldn’t apologise to Keith. Keith was dead.

 

“No hard feelings.”

 

Of course there were hard feelings. Right now, there was nothing _but_ hard feelings. Lance may be a prisoner right now but he wasn’t dead. He shouldn’t be allowed to be hearing this.

 

“No hard feelings.”

 

Why did Keith have to die? Why was Lance so stupid to get himself captured? If he hadn’t, Keith would never have-

 

“No hard feelings.”

 

Lance felt tears coming to his eyes. “Keith, I’m so sorry.”

 

“No hard feelings.”

 

This went on in a cycle for what felt like forever. The magic shocks weren’t the worst pain he’d ever felt. In fact, after his grief he welcomed it, but he was starting to get dizzy. Another shock and he would be out cold. He pitied the Blue Lion, who wasn’t able to pass out; she had to endure the pain, and Lance couldn’t do anything about it. Even if he was able to refuse entrance, he couldn’t protect her from the Galra. He was her Paladin, and he’d failed her.

 

But she refused to see it that way. Even if they weren’t fully connected, Lance could tell what she was trying to say:

 

No hard feelings.

 

“You’re just wasting everyone’s time now,” said Lotor impatiently, “I know you have the power, Lance. Just do it.”

 

Lance felt his faint connection to Blue, felt the pain they shared, and decided that if Blue could put on a brave face, so could he.

 

“I can’t!”

 

“Keep trying.”

 

“I keep telling you that I _can’t_!” It wasn’t even a fact of if he wanted to anymore. The Blue Lion refused to open. Not even her Paladin could convince her to do otherwise.

 

“Just do what she wants, Lance. Do it and this will all be over.” But it wouldn’t be over, would it? Haggar would get access to Blue, and Lance would feel all of the suffering Haggar would put her through, as he would be dragged back into the insanity that was his and Lotor’s relationship. Until Haggar needed to torture him again. If he lost Blue, it would never be over.

 

So Lance ignored Lotor, and focused on the only things that kept him grounded: Keith and Blue. He thought of the journeys she would take him on, as the magic burned his skin. He thought of Keith’s laugh when Lance would sing along to the musicals he made Keith watch, as he felt his vision going dark. And if Keith was really up in heaven, Lance prayed that he wasn’t too mad with Lance for doing this. Because he would withstand Haggar’s magic and the pain it brought until his body gave up. He would stand strong until all of his breath was pulled from him and he dropped dead. He would do that for them. And he would do it gladly. No hard feelings.

 

But it turned out that he didn’t have to wait that long. “That’s enough, Haggar!” cried Lotor suddenly, impatience evident in his tone. Haggar immediately ceased with her magic, leaving Lance to fall on his knees, struggling to catch his breath.

 

Despite Haggar’s actions displaying obedience to Lotor, her mouth proved otherwise, “We can’t stop now! We’re almost there!”

 

“No, it was plain to see that you were accomplishing nothing. All you’ve done is damage the boy.”

 

“It’s not my fault that the Paladin is damaged! If he would only open the Lion-”

 

“This has gone on long enough. We can try another day.”

 

“But-”

 

“Clearly your magic is not as powerful as you think. We will only do this again once you’re sure you can have any effect.”

 

By this point Lotor had reached Lance in the centre of the circle. Lance still couldn’t breathe, the aftershocks of Haggar’s curses coursing through him. Despite his lack of caring, his body began to panic at the thought of never breathing again, which only made it harder to intake air. Was this another panic attack?

 

Lotor’s hands were immediately on his shoulders, which didn’t help; it only caused Lance to panic more, but then Lotor made it clear that he wanted Lance to look at him.

 

“Focus on my breaths, Lance. Just breathe. Breathe with me, and you’ll be fine.”

 

He was never expecting mediation tips from his captor, and he couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed that he was acting this vulnerable in front of all of the Druids and Haggar, but right now there were other priorities. Lance focused on the rise and fall of Lotor’s chest, forcing his lungs to work at the same rhythm, and it didn’t take long for his desperate pants to become normal breaths again, as Lotor guided him. He could sense Blue’s annoyance at that, and even some guilt. Like it was her job to calm him down.

 

“Do you need the infirmary?” Lance shook his head. Even though he was in pain, for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t want to fall asleep. He wanted to hold on to his thoughts, even if he felt grief creeping back once again.

 

“Can you walk?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lance pushed himself onto his feet, Lotor keeping a hand on the small of his back, ready to catch him if he fell.

 

“You need to rest.” Lotor decided. “This session is over.”

 

Haggar clearly wasn’t happy about that. “Lotor, you must understand, we have to-”

 

“SILENCE!” Lotor roared, making everyone in the room, including Lance, jump. Lotor glared Haggar for a final moment, letting his outburst hang in the air, before turning and pulling Lance with him out of the hanger. Clearly there was no room for discussion.

 

But while Lance was glad to be going away from Haggar, that meant he would be leaving Blue once again. He didn’t want to leave her with the witch. Didn’t want her to keep suffering. He turned to her, giving her an apologetic look, and heard her gentle whine in response. He didn’t stop looking at her until the door to the hanger closed behind him. On this ship, anytime they saw each other could be their last.

 

Walking through the corridors again, Lotor’s hands underneath his arms to keep him steady, Lance felt on edge, wondering if Lotor was still angry. He hadn’t said anything since he’d yelled at Haggar, and Lance was afraid that if he said anything Lotor would blow up at him as well. He was too nervous to allow the chance of eye contact, so he let his eyes wander around his surroundings. Through one of the open doors, he spotted a room full of cages, each having something moving within them.

 

The loudmouth that he was, he couldn’t stop himself before asking, “What’s in there?”

 

Thankfully, Lotor seemed to have calmed down, and replied, “I guess you could call it the ship’s Zoo. We keep the lower life forms in there.”

 

“The lower life forms?”

 

“The ones who can’t talk, work, or fight in the arena.” So those creatures were prisoners, then. Were the Galra just obsessed with putting everyone in a cage?

 

“Would you like to see them?” Lotor asked.

 

Lance could already feel the cloying sense of despair and torment within the room. But his curiosity was getting the better of him. “Okay.”

 

Walking into the room, Lance’s regret grew with each step. Those that dwelled in the cages were either curled up in a corner, with hopelessly dead eyes, or began hissing at the sight of them, clawing as the cages in the hopes to attack them. It spooked him, made his mouth open with sharp little breaths as he sought to calm himself, though Lotor’s hands kept him firmly in place and unable to squirm away.

There was one animal in a large cage in the centre of the room, which caught Lance’s eye. It was huge, with eyes that shone bright blue even in the darkness. It raised its head to Lance, those ghostly eyes boring into him, and although it made no aggressive gesture, Lance was overcome with the need to both let it out of the cage, or run as far away as he could from it.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Said Lotor, catching him staring. “My father captured it years ago. It’s a Water Beast. Vary rare too, you can only find them in the deepest forests of the outer West Galaxy.”

 

“Why’s it named a Water Beast?”

 

“It’s a monster that can control water, when it roamed free its power was truly a thing of beauty. However here on a ship, that power can be damaging to the electronic systems. And it was too distressed here to stop using its powers defensively. It became a liability.”

 

Lance considered asking why Lotor didn’t just let it go if it caused too many problems. However, he only had to look at his own predicament to know the answer to that question.

 

“It was too troublesome, too disobedient,” looking at the beast more closely, Lance saw its eyes focused on Lotor. They were eyes filled with hatred. “So it stays in the cage.” That statement felt just as much directed at Lance as it was to the monster.

 

“But my Father was too proud to realise that something like this will never be domesticated. You have to choose your targets wisely. One can’t tame a thing of myth. Because of its powers, anyone who saw one would share their stories. Hence, they became somewhat of a legend. Many believed it was the Water Beasts who brought life to the forests, by making water in the sky.”

 

“They made it rain?”

 

“Rain?”

 

“It’s where falls from the clouds in the sky.”

 

“Huh. Fascinating. We never had that on Daibazaal. Or…so I hear.” Said Lotor. Lance was momentarily transported back to that first night at the bar, where Lotor had talked of his lack of family. Lance had felt pity then. He tried not to feel it now. But still, losing your home planet would be devastating for anyone, even psychos like Lotor.

 

And now that they had reached the subject of home planets, Lance was hit with a longing for his.

“What’s wrong?” asked Lotor, noticing his expression as he always did. Lance wanted to scoff and say that there were plenty things wrong, but decided against that.

 

“I miss rain.”

 

“Well, whenever you miss it, let me know and I can bring you back here, if you’d like. If you behave.”

 

“Thanks, but it’s not the same. On my planet, it would rain all the time. A lot of people hate rain, but my family would always go out in our bright yellow raincoats and dance around in it.”  Oh no. He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have mentioned Earth. He shouldn’t be telling Lotor anything. Mentioning his family had been a brief comfort, but now it was only more baggage on top of his already awful mood.

 

But Lotor didn’t seem to pick up on Lance’s slip up. “That sounds delightful, Lance. You can probably tell that my family never did anything like that.” He frowned, but then quickly hid it with a witty remark.” But maybe that’s for the best. I doubt I would look good in a yellow raincoat.”

 

Reflexively, Lance let out a laugh, which he immediately regretted. He shouldn’t be talking with Lotor, let alone laughing. But he couldn’t help it. Lance was a social person, he needed someone to talk to. And it seemed that Lotor was pretty good at conversation, when he wanted to be. Lance figured he’d have to be, no one becomes a ruler without being a public speaker. And after all the yelling and violence, it felt normal. It was nice to just talk.

 

But Lotor was still a monster. A monster that needed to be in a cage far more than anyone. Lance looked to the Water Beast, saw it’s defiant yet forlorn expression, and felt a kinship. They were both Lotor’s prisoners.

 

After their conversation, the walk back to their room was quiet, but surprisingly not awkward. Until, Lotor spoke up.

 

“Why couldn’t you open the Lion?”

 

Lance had been expecting that question, and was ready to deflect it. “I told you, my Lion-”

 

“I know what the Lion was doing. But I could see it on your face. You were doing something that prevented the barrier from coming down. Yet you looked conflicted by that.”

 

Shit. Of course Lotor would notice that. Staring at him was the creep’s specialty. He should just tell Lotor the truth, to stop him from pressing, but he knew what would happen if he did. The ominous purple lights of the ship hung over Lotor’s face, reminding Lance of what he was capable of.

 

“I won’t tell you. I’m not giving you that advantage over the Blue Lion.”

 

“Telling me would make no difference. Like you said, even if I knew, the Lion won’t change its mind.”

 

That was true, but still, Lance wasn’t cowered enough yet to just start telling Lotor everything. Maybe he could say that he was just tired, or that he-

 

“You were thinking about the Red Paladin, weren’t you?”

 

Ah, quiznack. The gig was up. Lance nodded, knowing that Lotor wouldn’t believe him if he said anything different.

 

Lotor sighed. “I thought so. Why, Lance?”

 

“You know why. It’s not fair for you to expect me to-”

 

“I’m not talking about how this affects me. I know that the Red Paladin is a sensitive topic for both of us, but I’m mainly concerned about you.”

 

Lance stopped in his tracks. “What?”

 

Lotor once again placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder, urging him to begin walking again. “It was evident to me when we had our talk the other evening. You were traumatised at the video of him. And it is obvious that you haven’t been in the right state of mind lately.”

 

“Are you seriously trying to blame Keith for this?”

 

“It’s not just your current mood. Anytime you mention him, it’s for the wrong reasons. He makes you reckless, and emotional. That isn’t good for someone, Lance. How are you going to truly feel comfortable here if you keep holding onto the past?”

 

“I’m never going to-”

 

“This is not a selfish request.” Interrupted Lotor, making it clear that there was no room for protest. “It will do better for you not to think about him.”

 

Even though Lance knew why Lotor was requesting this, and it _was_ selfish, there was a selfish part of himself that wanted to indulge in it. Lotor was right in that thinking about Keith was making Lance feel worse, and he momentarily wondered if cutting those thoughts off would make the pain stop. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that to Keith’s memory.

 

He considered lying, but even that would make him feel guilty. “I can’t,” he spoke softly. He braced himself for fury, imagining Lotor to attack like he had earlier, but instead Lotor offered him a look of pity. As if Lance was some simple creature who just didn’t know any better.

 

“That’s okay. I know it may take time to forget about him, especially after our little…incident. But then I only ask of one thing. Do that, and your punishment will be over.”

 

As much as Lance didn’t want to do anything Lotor wanted, Lotor forgiving him potentially meant Lance had more freedom. Another chance to escape. However, was he brave enough to try again?

 

“What?”

 

“Do not mention the Red Paladin in my presence. Ever again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, this chapter was a long boi
> 
> I think the next chapter will be a little shorter, and should be out soonish, though University has started again so I may get too busy to update frequently. We'll see.
> 
> But still, I hope you liked this chapter! My inspiration for this scene came from the game Corpse Party, if you've played it you know what I'm talking about. That scene always made me cry while playing.
> 
> And fear not, Voltron is on the way to help Lance!


	12. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voltron gets ready to bust Lance out.

Shiro stood alone in his room, his back leaned on the wall. He didn’t often make calls in his room, preferring the large screen of the central area of the castle, but that area was currently too occupied. Kolivan never liked talking to noisy groups.

 

Kolivan himself seemed to be holding a handheld communicator as well. Shiro guessed that he may be on a mission or something. “He seems relatively uninjured, but has been sent to the healing room a number of times. We advise you work quickly.”

 

“Thank you, Kolivan,” Shiro paused, already knowing the answer to the question he was about to ask, “are you sure none of you there can help him?”

 

“A few of our members are preparing for your arrival, but the Blade of Marmora is only effective in its secrecy. Helping the boy at this current moment would destroy any chances of his retrieval.”

 

“Right,” Shiro said, looking to the ground.

 

Kolivan sighed. “If it’s possible, we can get someone to relay a message to the Blue Paladin. That will be enough to keep him going.”

 

“Right. Thank you.”

 

The Blade was never an organisation for small talk, so the screen quickly went black. Shiro stared at his own reflection on it. His eyes were sunken, with dark circles underneath. Had his hair gotten greyer? He wouldn’t be surprised. He’d barely slept in weeks. And he’d been working non-stop.

 

They all had. He only had to wander outside of his room to see Hunk race past him, carrying more equipment that he and Pidge needed. Following him to the Castle’s central room, he saw them both jumping back and forth between machines, powering weapons here, preparing hacking code there. Shiro never could fully grasp how they did all of that stuff, but he knew they would be prepared for their future plan of attack. Still, he hated to see them look so worn out and frantic. That was his job.

 

“Everything going okay with you guys?” He said.

 

He got a rushed, “yeah” in reply for the both of them. Pidge looked just as tired as he did, but there was no point in telling her to rest. She wouldn’t be able to do that until Lance was back, and with their plans coming into fruition soon, there wasn’t really time to rest until they’d confirmed that everything was ready.

 

Thankfully, Coran, the wonderful caretaker he was, came in with drinks and food, placing them down beside the two scientists. “Eat up now, Number 2 and Number 5, you’ll need sustenance for all that brain power.” Hunk complied and shoved things into his mouth hastily while still working, and Coran stayed beside them, patting Pidge on the back until she finally relented and ate something.

 

Shiro smiled at the sight, and turned towards the far side of the room, where Allura stood. She was speaking through the screen to Candel again, the ruler of that distant water planet. Shiro considered going over to support her, but it looked like she was finishing up the conversation, so there was no point in bothering her.

 

Once the large screen cut off, Allura turned and saw Shiro watching her. She gave a smile and made her way over to the rest of them.

 

“Candel has confirmed that the main Galra ship is near his planet. He has offered us refuge should we need a place to hide after the mission. Their weapons will provide defence.”

 

“That’s great to hear,” said Shiro. He imagined they would need that; attacking the main ship was not going to come without consequence, “We’ve almost got everything prepared then. Everyone’s tasks are going well, right?”

 

“Weapons are good to go. I’ve even added some extra power to the boosters.” Said Hunk proudly.

 

“I’ve managed to map out the ship’s mainframe and where Lance would most likely be. We just need to test out some of my code, but I don’t think we’ll face any problems for it.”

 

Shiro smiled. What would they ever do without Pidge?

 

“My task of rallying planets wasn’t as successful as I’ve liked,” sighed Coran, “but while no one agreed to help us attack, 4 planets have said that if we got a suitable distance from the Ship and still needed help, they would provide backup.”

 

“I guess we’ve done as much as we can do,” said Allura, “Besides, we’ll have support from the Blade, right Shiro?”

 

“Yeah, they’ve said they’ll try to power down the alarm systems momentarily, which should buy us some time. They also said they’ll make sure Lance is away from any high-ranking official. They’ll definitely make sure he’s away from Lotor.”

 

Allura caught Shiro’s disgusted expression. “Shiro, what is it?” she asked.

 

“I asked Kolivan if they know how Lance is doing…and it’s not great.” He was worried about saying this, and the reaction of those around him proved that action correct. Everyone had sat up, tense. They were all positioned like they wanted Shiro to elaborate, but feared what they would hear if he did.

 

Shiro sighed. “It seems like Lance is no ordinary prisoner. Lotor’s keeping him in his own personal room. The Blade have said Lotor drags him around like a pet or something, as if they’re a couple.”

 

“A couple?” said Coran, horror filling his voice.

 

“Except he’s obviously been torturing Lance too. What we saw during that call with Haggar and Lotor shows hasn’t been the half of it. They’ve spotted bruises all over his neck, like he’s been strangled, along with…more suggestive marks.”

 

Shiro waited for the outrage. He didn’t have to wait long.

 

“I’m gonna rip the hair off that creep’s head and strangle him with it!” Pidge snarled.

 

“Okay, Pidge, just try to calm down,” started Shiro, but Allura cut him off.

 

“No, I like that idea. What Lotor has done is monstrous. The Galra have already destroyed my people, my _family_ , they cannot do it a second time and not expect recompense.”

 

“Well, let’s just try to save that fury for when we get there. We need to keep a cool head if we’re going to make it in.”

 

“I can’t keep cool when you’ve just told us that!” cried Pidge, but Coran placed his hand on her shoulder, and after a few breaths she seemed to calm down. Or was at least attempting to.

 

Hunk didn’t say anything.

 

“I’m sorry for telling you this, it’s awful for me to think about it too. I just wanted to warn you, because when we see Lance again...you might not like what you see.” Shiro knew this from personal experience.

 

Allura nodded. “Well, if we see him, we’ll be seeing him coming home. I’d like that very much indeed.” She gave a small smile, which Shiro appreciated. He imagined she felt the same guilt as him, for letting Lance be taken in the first place.

 

“Well,” Allura said, “Once Pidge has finished testing her code, all that’s left to do is prepare ourselves for the mission. I would recommend training, but…” she looked at all of their exhausted states, “perhaps we should all just get some rest.”

 

Pidge, Shiro and Coran knew that sleep would be hard to come by, but nodded. They began to make their way to their ordered areas. Shiro was a little worried about leaving Pidge on her own, but that was solved when Allura plonked down on the sofa next to her, intending to take a nap there.

 

Coran went to grab a blanket for the Princess, so there was just him and Hunk in the corridor. Hunk still hadn’t said anything, and he had kept his head to the ground for a while now. It was starting to worry Shiro.

 

“Hunk, are you oka-”

 

“What if it all goes wrong?” said Hunk, taking Shiro off-guard. Hunk finally raised his head, and Shiro could see the anxiousness in his eyes. “What if we can’t find him, or Lotor grabs him before we can do anything? It’ll only make things worse for Lance and the…the things you said that were happening to him, he can’t…I-I can’t-”

 

“It won’t go wrong, Hunk. We’ve planned everything out.”

 

Hunk, being the nerve-wracked person he was, wasn’t easily convinced. “You know, he was my best friend, back at the Garrison, right? I remember, on the first day there, I was too nervous to make any friends, but he just came bounding up to me and announced that we were best buds now. And he kept his word.” Hunk smiled, but tears were filling his eyes. “He was practically my brother. He was always looking out for me, even if he did get me in trouble sometimes. I just can’t imagine…if he’s... _different_ , like you said he might be, will I ever be able to help him? And what kind of best friend would I be if we couldn’t even rescue him in the first place?!”

 

Shiro knew that this situation was hitting Hunk hard, but Hunk had never talked as much about it as right now. And Shiro wasn’t quite sure what to say. He felt very empathetic towards him, as he too had lost his brother. But Hunk still had a chance of getting his back, and Shiro needed to do his job as leader and remind him of that.

 

“I promise you, we’re going to get him back. Things will be okay again, I swear.”

 

Tears began to flow freely from Hunk’s eyes, and he leapt forward to hug Shiro, pressing his forehead to his shoulder, as if to hide the wetness on his face. Shiro wanted to comfort him more, but really, there was nothing else he could say. They stayed like that for a while; Shiro rubbing circles on Hunk’s back while he cried, until eventually he had calmed down enough to let go.

 

Shiro gave him a smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Get some rest Hunk. We need our Yellow Paladin to be at his strongest.”

 

Hunk sniffed, then smiled. “Sure thing, Boss.”

 

Once Hunk was in his room, Shiro contemplated his nerves for the mission. Things had been very tense since that mission on that dust planet, and it was usually Lance who broke the tension with some joke. The lack of those jokes made it painfully obvious how quiet the Castle was. How empty. With the loss of just two people, Voltron now felt minuscule.

 

Pidge and Hunk were the most obviously upset. Pidge had been very vocal about it, yelling in frustration whenever her attempts at hacking the Galra went awry, coming near to tears whenever anyone even mentioned Lance. While Hunk hadn’t spoken a lot about it, his body language had been very clear. Proven by their recent conversation, Shiro knew just how hard this was for him.

 

Coran too was very distraught. While he made sure to keep himself busy, looking after the other Paladins and Allura, Shiro spotted him sniffing occasionally.

 

Allura was quite a surprise however. He knew she would be upset. He knew she cared for Lance (even if his flirting did annoy her). But he didn’t expect to find her in her room sobbing after that call with Haggar and Lotor.

 

“Everyone acts as if I’m the most important part of this rebellion, but I…I can’t keep allowing people to sacrifice themselves for me.” She’d wailed. “I’m not worth more than Lance. None of us are.”

 

It didn’t help that their grief was tenfold. They’d lost two Paladins that day. And while Shiro obviously missed Lance, it was Keith’s death that hit him the hardest. The idea that he’d lost his little brother, after being reunited for such a short time, was something he couldn’t handle. He could barely eat or sleep. He’d tried to distract himself through training, until his legs were too tired to keep standing. He had to be strong for the other Paladins, but he couldn’t stop the pain that slammed into his chest every night, wracking his body with sobs. He imagined Lance would be feeling just as terrible about Keith. And he bet that in Lotor’s company, Lance wasn’t even allowed to grieve.

 

He had to admit he’d been surprised when Keith and Lance first announced they were dating. They’d constantly butted heads before, so Shiro was worried if it was just going to be one of those relationships where the couple does nothing but argue. And while they did still argue (it was in their nature after all), Shiro saw how much they cared for each other. He would listen while Keith rambled on about where he wanted to take Lance on a date, he would give Keith advice when he wasn’t sure how to ask Lance to kiss him, and while he’d never expected Lance to be the one to sweep Keith off his feet, he’d been so happy that Keith had found someone, after all those years of being alone.

 

It was through Keith that Shiro discovered a new side to Lance. He’d always thought that Lance didn’t care about anything, that he took everything as a joke. Obviously, that had been a very unfair way to think. Shiro knew he hadn’t been the perfect leader; he knew that he often prioritised Keith because of their shared history. And even after Lance was taken, and tortured, all Shiro could think about was Keith.

 

But that changed after that call with the Galra. Seeing Lance put on such a brave face while being in such pain, Shiro had been overtaken with guilt, and fear. He saw how Lotor looked at Lance, and it chilled him to his core. Even during his time as a prisoner, he never had to go through something like that.

 

He wished he’d paid more attention to Lance. Shiro knew a few things, that he was a great shot and he cared about his friends, but Keith had told him much more that Shiro wished he’d noticed. Keith told him that Lance saw him as his hero, that he’d idolised him, and now he sat here while Lance was suffering. Shiro had wanted to lead Voltron so that no one would have to go through what he did at the hands of the Galra, but now one of his own team, his family, was there. What kind of leader was he, if he let that happen?

 

For a while, he’d only thought of Keith as his family. But now his family had multiple members. He and Lance had shared a similar horrific experience. They were brothers now, brothers in agony.

 

But Shiro was certain, Lance wouldn’t have to break out like he did. They were going to rescue him. If Lance saw Shiro as his hero, then he was going to act like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter, as I just wanted to check in with the paladins. Hold on Lance, they're on their way!
> 
> Next chapter we'll be back with Lance and Lotor. Let's hope Lotor's not gonna be too creepy...oh who am I kidding of course he will be.
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter! Thank you all so much for your comments and Kudos!


	13. Strategies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor takes Lance on a "Date".

Despite Lance’s “punishment” being over, he still wasn’t allowed outside of his room very often. Not that Lance really cared. If venturing outside of his room meant that he would get tortured again, he’d rather stay in here. He wondered if that was part of Lotor’s strategy; conditioning him to stay in his quarters. It most likely was, and Lance hated to admit that it was working.

Not that there was anything in this room that made him want to stay. Since he wasn’t being handcuffed anymore, Lance had searched the room from top to bottom (making sure not to move anything, fearing how Lotor would react if he knew), and found nothing. Lotor really didn’t like to add personal touches to his room, did he? The draws were filled with nothing but clothes and old broken technology. No family photos, no games or books, and unfortunately no folder which had “SECRET PLANS/WAYS TO ESCAPE THIS GALRA BASE” written on it. Nada.

And of course, it was still Lotor’s room. And Lance still hated Lotor’s guts. Sure, they’d been talking more often as of late, but since Lotor didn’t let him talk about his friends much, especially Keith, there was little to talk about. Lance didn’t get why Lotor wanted them to be together so desperately; they didn’t seem to have anything in common. Lance liked video games, hanging out with his friends, garlic knots, and Lotor liked being a psychopath. Not a very solid foundation for a relationship.

He still wasn’t comfortable enough to not flinch at night when they slept in the same bed, or whenever Lotor entered the room abruptly. While he didn’t visit very often, (Lance assumed some new planet to conquer was keeping him occupied) it was always at seemingly random times, probably to keep Lance on edge. And as if he could read Lance’s mind (which Lance was starting to believe as a possibility), Lotor entered the room at that very moment.

Lotor also had the frightening ability of knowing exactly where Lance was, turning his head to meet Lance’s eyes almost immediately. Though it wasn’t hard to guess. Lance was still emotionally exhausted from being here, and rarely left his trusted spot; sitting on the bed. Despite no longer being cuffed to the bedpost, he was used to that position by now.

Lotor headed towards him and studied his face for a moment. It took all of Lance’s strength to hold his gaze. After a gruelling few seconds, Lotor placed his hand on Lance’s forehead. He was still acting as if Lance’s exhaustion was due to other factors, and not the fact that he was keeping Lance captive in some perverted fantasy of his.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. A mockery of concern, obviously.

“Fine,” said Lance. He knew if he elaborated, it would turn into insults and god knows where that would lead.

“I’m aware being cooped up in here by yourself isn’t the best for you, and I’m sorry about that,” said Lotor. Lance didn’t say anything, so Lotor pressed on, “So I think it best we spend some time together tonight. A sort of date, you could call it.”

Lance had to bite the insides of his mouth to stop himself from scoffing. Sure, Lotor wanted a date. Why not? After all, what else are you supposed to do after you’d kidnapped someone?

But he managed to force a nod, and let Lotor pull him off the bed.

 

* * *

 

 

Walking through the corridors, there was the general humming of the machinery, but after a while, Lance picked up something else. There was yelling, screaming and crashes. Was something happening? Wait, was Voltron here?! Only they could gather such loud yells! But that thought was gone the second he looked at Lotor’s face, who seemed unbothered by the nearing noises. In that case, what was happening?

“What is that?”

“You’ll find out.” Did everything have to be so ominous with this guy?

“So, what did you have in mind?” Lance finally managed to say, after they had been walking for some time. “You know…for our…date?”

Just him saying the word “date” seemed to have a good effect on Lotor, who smiled and placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder affectionately. “Well, I was planning for us to dine together. I think it would be good for us, since the last time didn’t go so well.”

Lance was already thinking that. His throat clenched at the memory of what happened in that dining hall, and the hand on his shoulder suddenly felt like slime. Even though it had been a while since that night, Lance wasn’t ready for a second round.

“Erm…don't you think it’s a little early for dinner?”

Lotor raised an eyebrow at him, comprehending Lance’s nervous tone, but didn’t challenge it. “Well, I do have something planned before that.”

There were more noises.

“Like what?”

There was another round of yells, and an echoing clang. What was that? And why didn’t Lotor seem worried?

Wait. He knew that shouting. The sound of clashing metal was familiar. This was a place that he’d never been, but had heard enough about to send chills running through him.

This was a place that even Shiro was afraid of.

“Welcome to the Arena.”

It was just as Shiro had described it; massive, with looming pillars and seats circling the central ring. The yells Lance had heard were from the crowd, which was packed with Galra soldiers of all shapes and sizes, who were cheering and booing for every little thing that happened down below. The clashing of metal came from the fight within the arena; a Galra of impossible size and who had 6 arms was pitted against an Olkarian that couldn’t have been taller than 4 feet. Though the Olkarian was putting up a tremendous fight, his weapon occasionally cutting at the Galran, it seemed comically unfair.

If this was Lotor’s idea of cheering him up, he was sorely mistaken.

“Why am I here?” Lance asked, almost in a hiss. He was frozen at the entrance, looking down into the ring.

“You’ll see,” said Lotor, leading him by the arm, pulling him towards the large throne-like seat which Lance guessed belonged to Lotor. “I figured that if you are going to be with me, you need to know more about what an Emperor’s job entails.”

Despite Lance knowing better by now, apprehension planted his feet to the ground. Lotor had no physical problem pulling him along, but stopped for a moment, looking down on him. Lance prepared himself for some threat of violence, or for Lotor’s typical condescension. But instead, Lotor placed his other hand on Lance’s back, and gently pushed him along. Maybe Lotor understood why Lance would be hesitant. Or maybe he just didn’t want to make a scene in front of hundreds of Galra.

Even so, Lotor did add a slight threat; “Be thankful that you’re in the stands. Many people here wished for you to be the one fighting.”

True. If he had been in the gladiator ring, he was doubtful that he’d last very long. But Lance didn’t know if he would have preferred that to his situation now.

After passing rows of shouting Galra, they reached Lotor’s seat, and his subsequent...stool. It was similar in design to Lotor’s, but a lot smaller, and lower down. As if symbolically telling him where his place was. Lance wondered who had filled that seat before.

The view was undoubtedly great; you could see everyone, but that was far from what Lance wanted. There was also quite a distance between them and everyone else. As the Emperor, wouldn’t Lotor want protection? Or was he paranoid about anyone getting to close? Or did he just fear no one?

In the distance, Lance could see faces peeking out from cages below. Future fighters. They were all of different species, different heights, different genders. But all of them were shaking in fear.

Lance couldn’t look at them for long before vomit was rising in the back of his throat. This was wrong, it was so wrong. These people were prisoners, and they were all waiting for their deaths. Hell, it was crueller than death; this was strung out, forcing them to struggle in vain and be brutally beaten until death finally gave them relief. And it was in front of hundreds of taunters.

Lance was-and was still, he had to remember that-a part of Voltron. It was their job to stop this. He had to stop this.

He made to stand up, to shout, to do anything, but immediately a hand on his arm pulled him back down. Lance snarled at his obstacle, “Don’t touch me. You can’t think that I-”

“There's no point making a scene, no one can hear you.” Said Lotor calmly, though his eyes appeared cold in a way that killed the voice in Lance’s throat. Lotor gestured to the glass around them. “The glass prevents any sound from escaping. And it's bulletproof. So whatever your thinking of doing, it wouldn’t work.”

Lance made to argue again, not knowing exactly what he would say but feeling spurred on by the horror that unfolding in the ring below them. But Lotor quickly grabbed his face and turned it in the direction of the fight.

“I know this is difficult for you to watch. I know you want to run away from this,”

Wait, Lotor didn’t think Lance was planning to stop the fight? Lotor just thought he wanted to leave the Arena, leave all of the prisoners here to die? Did he seem that cowed already?

“But don’t look away,” Lotor said, “you need to watch this. This is a common occurrence on my ship.”

So this was what an Emperor’s job entailed. Watching people suffer and die. Lance already knew that.

But still, he watched the fight. He forced himself to watch every swing the Olkarian dodged. Every cry of fear that came out of his mouth. But it was all in vain. The Galran lifted 3 of his arms, and swung with brute force into the Olkarian’s side. One hit was all it took. The Olkarian dropped to the ground. As obvious as the outcome had been, it was still horrifying. At least it was quick.

Lotor’s hand was still on his arm.

The Olkarian’s body was dragged off unceremoniously, and the crowd roared, hungry for more blood. It seemed impossible, Lance thought, for anyone to enjoy this. Impossibilities had been dwindling in the time Lance spent here.

Lance hoped this was the only fight they were going to watch, but even he knew it was a fool’s hope. “Who’s fighting next? Are you just going to have prisoners fight that guy?”

“You sound displeased,” said Lotor, “do you not like our current Champion? If not, I can have another Galran creature brought in-”

“You know that’s not what I’m “displeased” about,” Lance snapped.

Lotor rolled his eyes, but decided not to press further. “Well, I disagree. I actually think you’ll find the next fight quite satisfying.”

“What? Why? Who’s fighting?”

“For someone who supposedly hates this you sure are curious about it,” Lotor smirked, “You’ll probably recognise them.”

A jolt of fear ran through Lance’s body. If he recognised this person, they were probably his friend. Was this why Lotor brought him here? Was this another sick form of torture? Lance tried to wrack his brains for who it could be. Thankfully, it probably wasn’t Voltron, he would have heard more about it if it had been. Could it be a blade member? Someone from a planet they’d saved? What if it was Matt, Pidge’s brother, he was still missing-

The gate opened with a clang, and instead of the usual prisoner stumbling out in fear, this figure swaggered into the ring confidently.

And they were Galran.

Lance felt his body sag with relief. He could tell they weren’t a blade member. It wasn’t one of his friends. But then, why did Lotor think he would know them?

Wait. The new fighter had blades for arms. He’d seen those things before, and in a few moments, it clicked. He’d been attacked by those blades before.

“She-I recognise her! She was one of-I fought her in one of the corridors!” Lance said before he could stop himself. He recognised her clear as day now. She’d done a wicked number on him during his attempted escape a few weeks ago.

“But…why is she here? She’s not a traitor, is she?”

“Not intentionally, but anyone who fails me is automatically a traitor.”

“What?” Lance didn’t understand. Even if she didn’t catch him, putting her in the Arena seemed too much a punishment. Then again, knowing what happened to Sorkal, this wasn’t such a surprise.

Troque walked until she was a few feet away from the other Galran. She seemed angry, as if this was the last thing she wanted to be doing, but she didn’t seem afraid at all.

Lotor stared down at her with disdain. “Not only did she fail to retrieve you, but she also harmed you. After multiple healing sessions, that scar still hasn’t fully disappeared yet.”

Lance absentmindedly placed his hand on his stomach. Lotor had sent Troque here? All because she’d fought with him?

“I really did bring you here to cheer you up, Lance. I’m not as cruel as you like to think I am.”

Lance knew he had to watch the fight play out before he could tell if Lotor was telling the truth. And with the sound of a horn, the fight began.

Instantly, the Champion raised all 6 of his arms, and brought them crashing down. Troque leapt out of the way, unsurprisingly agile. The man swung again and again, sending debris flying, but didn’t land a single hit on her. Only one fist got close, and she used a nearby pillar to flip herself over his arm, slicing the skin with her blades.

Lance felt the atmosphere in the audience, sensing them all sit forward. This fight was going to be interesting.

The Champion punched his fist down hard, cracking the ground below. Troque threw herself to the ground, rolling out of the way just in time. She was so fast. Before the man had time to pick his arm up again, she has swung around him, slashing one of his arms off. He howled in agony.

Just like that, the crowd went wild. They began yelling stuff out, offering advice to either Troque or the other guy, whoever they wanted to win most.

“Swipe at his feet!”

“Rips those sword arms out of her sockets!”

“Don’t dodge that way, go the other way!”

Lance couldn’t blame them, he too found himself enthralled in the fight, mainly because he wasn’t quite sure yet who was going to win. While it was a little hard to focus (Lotor’s hand was still on his arm) Lance began to recognise the style of the Galra man’s fighting.

“Who do you think will win?” asked Lotor.

As the Champion continued to fight, an answer began to form in Lance’s mind.

“I think Troque will.”

Lotor looked surprised. “Her? I know she’s doing better than most fighters, but in the end, it is always the Champion that wins.”

“I can see their difference in strategies. I can’t spot any flaws in hers so far. But he’s got some problems.”

The Champion leapt forward once more, smashing through a pillar to get to Troque. Troque slid between his legs, appearing behind him, and the man only just dodged before she could impale him. There was a nasty cut on his back.

Torque wasn’t in her best shape either. She seemed exhausted, sweat pouring down her forehead, and she was covered in bruises and scrapes from flying rubble. But she’d managed to avoid his hits thus far. Good thing too, if all it took was one punch to be taken down by this guy.

The crowd was still loud, but the shouting had turned more into whoops and roars of either anger or jubilation. It was like being at a soccer game. With far more blood.

“You can see their strategies?” Asked Lotor.

“I suppose you can too.”

“I can theorise, but I want to hear what you think.”

Lance hesitated. The reason he could see flaws in the Champion’s fighting was because he had spent so much time sparring against that style. It was Keith’s fighting style. Lance could recognise the ruthlessness of it; its dodges and swings. After his initial arm loss, he now seemed more cautious, and it seemed to be serving him well, keeping Troque back. But that wouldn’t last long. Keith was rarely cautious in a fight, Lance thought sadly. He was always willing to risk his life. And he did.

Being that he wasn’t allowed to mention Keith’s existence in front of Lotor, that would make conversation a little tricky. But…

“Do tell.” Pressed Lotor. It seemed clear that he wasn’t giving lance any choice.

“Well…” began Lance, “That Champion guy is a really good fighter. But he’s too sure of himself.”

“Well, you can hardly blame him. His name _is_ the Champion.”

“But if you go into a fight with the impression that you could lose, it keeps you on your toes. You don’t fall for anything.”

“Oh?” Lotor leaned in closer, “What do you think he’ll fall for?”

Lance tried not to flinch back. He wasn’t able to read Lotor’s expression. Obviously Lotor wouldn’t want Troque to win, but he wasn’t getting mad at Lance for saying that’s exactly what would happen. He just seemed…interested. Which was unusual. People weren’t generally interested in whatever strategies Lance had.

“Well,” Lance tried to remember the little details that Shiro told him about his time in the arena. “He’s not using his surroundings at all. There are all those pillars, and he’s not hiding behind any of them, like Troque is.”

As they spoke, Troque had swung around one of said pillars and roundhouse kicked the Champion in the face, causing him to shriek in fury and charge forward.

Lance wasn’t sure if he should keep talking; he didn’t want to encourage Lotor, who was still inching slowly towards him. But he was on a roll, “He’ll stumble back, but she won’t go in for another close attack, he recovers too quick for that. But she will throw that piece of rubble at him. He’ll likely dodge here, then swing for her feet. He’ll hit one of the pillars.”

The fighters did just that, drawing even more of a reaction from the crowd. Lotor nodded approvingly. “You know a lot about fighting styles. I guess you’d have to, figuring your previous line of work.”

Troque took another swing. The Champion lunged to the side.

“I’m more based for long distance though.”

As amazing a fighter as Keith was, he did mistakes.

“I’m aware. But that means you have to keep an eye on everyone.”

A pillar wobbled above the fighters. Troque leapt up and kicked it.

“Yeah, that gives me a skill that the Champion doesn’t have.”

Keith was never aware of his surroundings.

The pillar fell down with a rumble. The Champion was so caught up in chasing Troque, that he didn’t notice it until it was too late. The pillar crashed over his head. He stumbled to the ground, almost out cold, and Troque jumped onto his fallen form. She raised her blades, and Lance didn’t have time to close his eyes before she stabbed both arms through the Champion’s back. There was an awful squelching sound. And just like that, the Champion was dead.

There was a roar from the crowd. Lance couldn’t tell if they were pleased or not.

Lotor certainly wasn’t. He glared down at Troque, who had stepped off from the deceased man, wiping the blood from her face.

“I told you.” Lance couldn’t help but say. Maybe he shouldn’t have, as Lotor directed his glare towards him now.

“Hm. She’ll have to win far more fights than that to earn her place again.” But then his expression softened, “I guess you were correct then. You’re a natural at this arena business. I should have brought you here sooner.”

Lance was once again reminded of how close Lotor was. His hand still hadn’t left Lance’s arm. “No thanks. Seeing people suffer isn’t my thing.”

Lotor raised his eyebrows. “Oh really, you seemed to be enjoying yourself at the end.”

Lance pulled back in disgust. “That’s a straight up lie.”

Lotor shrugged. “You may tell yourself that. But there’s no shame in being proud of your abilities.”

The ex-Champion was unceremoniously dragged off by soldiers. Lance wondered what his name was. If he had a family.

Lotor noticed his expression. “You’re very pale. You need to eat.”

Lance didn’t have time to dispute him, before Lotor stood up, cleared his throat, and pressed a button.

“Congratulations to our newest Champion!” Lotor’s voice boomed from a speaker into the arena. Lance had to give Lotor credit, he hid the bitterness in his voice well.

“Naturally, the fights will continue. If you have no duties, stay as long as you wish.”

Lance tried not to notice the glares of the crowd, glares pointed in his direction.

“However, I must depart. As I am your Emperor, I have my duties. To celebrate our new Champion, we shall be having a banquet in her honour as usual.” Meaning that Lotor would have a banquet, while Troque still remained imprisoned and starving.

But Lance didn’t have time to mull over that thought. Lotor yelled his customary “Vrepit Sa!” And he was being marched out of the arena. Towards the-

No. God no. Not that room.

Lotor had told him they would be eating there tonight. He should be ready for this. But even though it had been a long while since he had last been in that dining hall, once was enough. One mealtime with Lotor was enough.

He could be here for years and still wouldn’t be ready.

Obviously he hadn’t been here for years. A few…months, maybe?

Wait. Did he seriously not know?

It was the first night here that he'd had a meal with Lotor. Lotor wouldn’t have let a massive amount of time go by before having another meal with him.

…right?

Lance had promised himself he would keep track of time. Even if he couldn’t tell what the exact date and time was, he had to remember _some_ frame of reference.

It had to have been…it couldn’t have been more than…

He couldn’t remember.

He…he didn’t know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.....it's been a while, hasn't it?
> 
> Let's just say that University has been a tad difficult recently. I've also been busy writing and directing a couple of plays. Life happens, I guess. I just want to say thank you to all the people who still commented and supported this work during my hiatus!
> 
> But anyway, I'm back with a chapter! I hope it doesn't read too rusty, as I haven't written for this in a while. And I have the next chapter in the works! Originally, this and the next chapter were going to be one chapter together, but it ended up being a bit too long, and I figured you guys would want something asap. So the second part will be coming up soon! Let's hope that things don't get as creepy in the dining hall as they did last time! But knowing Lotor, obviously they will, hehehehe.


	14. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has a rather uncomfortable meal

As hungry as he was, Lance really wasn’t in the mood to eat. A person’s appetite tends to disappear when it’s obvious how much everyone in the room hates you.

Lance hadn’t been aware that he and Lotor would also be joined by some of the highest-ranking generals in the Galran Empire. He wasn’t aware this was a thing. Galra officers only ever seemed to talk through video calls, so having them all in the one room was surreal.

It didn’t help with the massive elephant in the room; that Lance had been involved with some of these General’s major downfalls. Voltron had battled many of these Generals, Lance could easily recognise some of them. Which unfortunately meant they would recognise him as well.

Servers milled around them all, placing an assortment of dishes along the table. Even they seemed to hate him, placing down his meals only after everyone else had received theirs, and doing so with a slight abruptness, as if saying, “You don’t deserve this food.”

Lance tried to focus on the meal in front of him. It looked good, but Lance wasn’t quite sure what it was. He knew now that food being blue didn’t automatically make it disgusting, but it still took some getting used to. But he could still feel the glares cutting into him. He wanted to stare right back at them, to yell at them and stand his ground. He wasn’t ashamed of having defeated them in the past, it wasn’t his fault they were trying to destroy the Universe. But taking on an entire room of Generals on his own seemed stupid, even for him.

Thankfully, he and Lotor were still sat at quite a distance from all of them, though the Generals looked almost jealous of that fact. To be honest, Lance wasn’t a big fan of this arrangement either. It was like they were an actual couple.

It was strange how little Lotor seemed to care about people’s disgust at that, Lance thought. An Emperor courting a Paladin of Voltron was definitely a scandalous thing, but Lotor barely even noticed the side-looks the two of them received. Maybe Lotor just didn’t care. It’s not like anyone had the power to do anything about Lotor’s choices.

Lance almost wished a General would say something. State the weirdness of the situation. Lance didn’t belong here, not in this room, not with the Galra Empire, not with Lotor. At least with the company here, Lotor wasn’t being as creepy as Lance had expected him to be.

But still, right now, Lotor was the only thing protecting him if a General suddenly decided to attack him. Lotor was his security. Lance figured that was why Lotor had sat them that way. Of course Lotor knew that. Or maybe was he trying to set him at ease? Oh please. Lotor hadn’t cared about Lance’s comfort before, why would he now?

“You’re on edge.” Said Lotor flatly, though he kept his voice down so the Generals would not hear him.

“Very perceptive of you.”

“You know I don’t like sarcasm Lance.”

Lance nodded, expecting Lotor to chide him more, but instead he heard Lotor click his fingers, and a goblet was immediately placed in front of Lance.

“What is it?” Lance asked. The liquid was a dark purple, with gold specks in it. It looked both inviting and ominous.

“It’s called moonshine. Try it, it’s delectable.”

Lance was sceptical, but let himself take a sip. It tasted nice. It tasted really nice. Like chocolate and plums.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Asked Lotor, who had his own glass of the stuff. “I figure we need something to ease the tension that seems to be growing every second.”

At least Lotor felt that tension too. He wasn’t quite so delusional as to believe his Generals would go along with the happy families fantasy he was forcing Lance to be a part of. That made Lance feel a little better, knowing that Lotor had _some_ sense of reality.

“How are you enjoying the food?” Asked Lotor.

“It’s good. Though I don’t know what half of the stuff is.”

Lotor chuckled, then shifted his seat closer to Lance in order to get better access to Lance’s plate. “That is the meat of the Vertallion,” he said, pointing at it, “It doesn’t look pleasant but it’s the rarest of delicacies, it can only be hunted once every century. Those green things there are the roots of the mandkrin plant, which were said to have healing qualities.”

Lance had to admit that it was pretty fascinating. Since all he had to eat in the Castle of Lions was food goo (unless Hunk was feeling generous enough to cook for him) he hadn’t had the chance to learn about the many types of food in the galaxy.

“And that there…to be honest I’m not sure what that is either.”

Lance snorted. Encouraged by this, Lotor turned to him, smiling.

“So what food do you have on your planet?”

“Umm, quite a bit of stuff actually,” said Lance, his face full of food. It tasted almost as good as the drink. “We have meat and vegetables and stuff like that. But nothing beats Garlic knots. Those are the best.”

“Garlic knots, huh? So those are your favourite?”

“Yeah, I had them all the time with my…” the words died in Lance’s throat, but the unsaid hung in the air. With my family.

Lotor sighed, then, as if offering his condolences, pushed the drink towards him. Lance smiled, and took a sip.

“So what about you?” asked Lance after he’d swallowed. “Any favourite foods?”

“Hmm,” thought Lotor, as if he had never pondered the question before. “I do enjoy the pastries of the Hubble District. I know I loved them as a child. However, as my Father believed distance from pleasure made one stronger, I was rarely allowed them.”

Lotor appeared bitter at the mention of his father. Lance decided to copy Lotor’s idea, and pushed Lotor’s drink towards him in condolence. Lotor laughed.

They talked more about their favourite foods, until the servers began bringing out what looked like deserts. Lance was surprised how quickly this meal had gone, he was worried it would feel agonizingly slow.

But it felt fine. He hadn’t felt afraid. It was almost as if the other Generals had melted away.

This felt…easy.

Wait. That couldn’t be right. Why did it feel easy? He was surrounded by his enemies, trapped in a ship after watching people get slaughtered in the arena, and those anxieties felt distant. Far too distant.

Lotor was right next to him, Lance’s shoulder was touching Lotor’s arm, and he wasn’t even bothered.

What had he…

The drink. Lance hadn’t thought to ask what was in the drink.

“Lotor, is this alcohol?” asked Lance.

Lotor shrugged, “I said it would help ease the tension.”

Quiznack. He couldn’t drink this. It was already having an effect on him, and he’d only had a few sips. He couldn’t let himself get drunk. Drunk Lance meant vulnerable Lance.

“You like it, don’t you? Just drink it, it’s fine.”

Drinking it properly was out of the question. Lotor didn’t care about him relaxing, he cared about him being pliant.

“Drink it, Lance. It’ll help you calm down.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Haven’t you been enjoying yourself tonight? You can keep enjoying yourself if you just do what I say.”

He suddenly felt it, a hand on his leg under the table. It slowly traced circles around his knee and Lance hated it. Had it been there the whole time?

“I haven’t been enjoying myself. You made me watch people _fight to the deat_ h. How is that enjoyable?”

“Don’t act high and mighty with me, Lance.” Said Lotor, rolling his eyes. Perhaps because there was an audience, he seemed calmer than usual. But that annoyed Lance more. He felt like a child being reprimanded. “You’re a warrior yourself. How many Galran people do you think Voltron has slaughtered?”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it! We’re saving people!”

“Are you though? Or are you giving them more unnecessary suffering? I’m an Emperor, not a tyrant. Under my rule there have been no complaints.”

“Only because you kill anyone who protests you!”

Despite being annoyed, Lance kept his voice to a low hiss, wary of everyone surrounding them. Could the Generals hear them? If so they were pretending not to, instead talking about whatever recent battles they had been a part of.

“You knew what would happen in the arena,” said Lotor, “Only someone with experience can predict that easily how someone will be slaughtered. You know exactly how killing works.”

That wasn’t true. Lance wasn’t a murderer. He only knew Troque would win because he knew Keith’s strategy. He really wasn’t as smart as Lotor thought. Or was Lotor just messing with him?

Lotor saw Lance’s face, and tutted. “You don’t have to act like I’ve insulted you. There’s nothing wrong with being skilled. In fact, I was very impressed with you tonight. You’re not as stupid as you appear.”

Lance had to clench his fist to stop it from swinging at Lotor’s face. “That’s good, I guess if people don’t impress you, they’ll just be thrown in the arena.”

“I would have thought you would be happy with that! She attacked you!”

“You’ve attacked me too!” It was getting really hard to keep his voice down. The servers next to them were looking down at the ground awkwardly.

“Don’t start that again, Lance. At least I’m giving recompense to others who have harmed you.”

“No, you’re just hurting people who piss you off. Voltron would never be so petty.”

Even Lotor was starting to get annoyed. “We Galra are not like you and your old team. We point out when one of us is holding the majority back.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m saying here you are, at a banquet, in a situation many would dream of, and you’re still holding onto that scum. They clearly haven’t been worrying about you, so why should you worry about them?”

“That’s not true!”

This meal was starting to feel so wrong. Now that he knew alcohol was the only thing making it feel right, Lance wanted to leave. He wanted to leave this room and never come back.

And as much as he wanted to hear about Voltron, he didn’t want to hear it from Lotor. Because Lotor took every little insecurity Lance had about his place on the team and shoved it in his face.

“You need to calm down, Lance. Just drink.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Lance,” Lotor said patronisingly, placing his hand on top of Lance’s.

Lance wanted to cry. He hated the way Lotor said his name, like he was molesting it with his tongue. He didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to hear Keith’s voice. Anyone’s voice except Lotor’s.

But Lotor wouldn’t be ignored. Lotor reached out and ran a finger down Lance's arm, sending a shiver through the boy. He couldn’t do anything about it, the Generals would kill him if he laid a hand on Lotor. Was this Lotor’s plan?

“You have to stop acting as if you’re in a terrible situation. This attitude is only making things worse for you. It’s okay to enjoy yourself.”

“But I’m not enjoying myself!”

Lotor ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. “This is what I’m talking about. You’re acting as if having fun makes you a terrible person. It doesn’t. Clearly, you’ve been through a lot since you arrived here, I’m not going to dispute that. But all that means is that you deserve to relax.”

Lotor clearly didn’t realise what would make Lance relax. Because apparently, placing his hand on Lance’s cheek was what Lotor thought qualified.

Once again, he was thankful they weren’t alone during this conversation. Clearly Lotor was holding back because of the others, but his words were awful enough.  
  
“Why torture yourself? No one's coming for you.” Lotor said.

“Yes they are!” Lance hissed.

“Lance,” Lotor said, his voice dripping with venom disguised as silk, “Wouldn't they have already come for you then? Do you know how much time has passed?”

It had been a while. Lance didn’t fully know how long. But it was understandable, rescuing him would mean that the team would have to fight the main Galra fleet, which wouldn’t be possible without support and training. They were just preparing to come and get him. Weren’t they?

Lotor was still talking. “I remember during their initial interrogation. They let your torture go on for so long.”

“You mean _you_ let my torture go on for so long.”

“I didn’t want that to happen. If it were up to me, they would have given us the information immediately and you wouldn’t have been harmed at all. But they didn’t want that, did they?”

A server milled around them, clearing away their plates. They went to take Lance’s drink since he clearly didn’t want it, but Lotor raised his hand in objection, sending the server away.

“They didn’t care. In Voltron, you were just a spare part. But here, you’re far from that. Which is why it’s right for you to be here. With me. You’ve just demonstrated, we can talk pleasantly, we can act how the stars intend for us to act. So let yourself enjoy that. It’s the right thing to do.”

Lance shook his head. He could feel his eyes watering in frustration. He needed Lotor to stop talking.

“I know this may be hard to accept. But just trust me. Just drink, and relax.”

“No.”

Apparently there was an end to Lotor’s patience, as in a rush of movement Lotor grabbed the goblet and pushed it to Lance’s mouth. Lance attempted to keep his mouth closed, but the hand that Lotor had on his cheek kept his jaw wrenched open, and Lotor didn’t stop pouring until half of the drink was down Lance’s throat.

Lance coughed as Lotor placed the drink down. It still seemed like no one in the room was noticing their little fight.

Lance could feel the effect immediately. An aching in his chest lessened slightly, and his mind went a little fuzzy. Not too much, thankfully Lotor hadn’t forced the whole drink down him, but it was enough.

But even through the haze of drink, Lance had to stop himself from attacking Lotor in a fit of rage. He stared down at his empty plate, thinking over and over what he said:

“You’re just a spare part.”

No, Lotor was wrong. They would come for him. Wouldn’t they?

How long _had_ it been? Surely Voltron would have made it by now. Maybe they thought it would be too risky. Maybe he wasn’t worth it. Well, Lance knew he wasn’t worth it, but whether or not the team believed that was something he didn’t want to think about.

No. He couldn’t do this to himself. Shiro had promised him. Shiro wouldn’t let him down. None of them would.

And of course, anything Lotor said about Voltron was biased. He was their enemy, after all, and playing into Lotor’s hands by disowning his best friends was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

But still, that tiny nagging voice of doubt wouldn’t cease.

“You need to forget about them.”

“Stop it.”

“They have forgotten you.”

“SHUT UP!”

Alcohol apparently made him less cautious, as his temper had finally got the best of him. Unfortunately, the volume of his voice made it finally impossible for the other Generals to ignore him. Heads turned towards him and Lotor.

“Is the Paladin causing you trouble, your Highness?” Said one, in a gruff voice which matched their gruff appearance.

Lotor waved his hand, “Not at all. The boy has just had a little too much to drink.” He said, and the table laughed.

The son of a bitch, Lance thought. People must have seen him force the drink down Lance’s throat. But here they were, laughing as if he was some idiot who didn’t understand how alcohol worked. And he hated when Lotor said “boy.” It made him feel like he was so little. He was ready to snap at Lotor for that, but before he could, another general, one with spikes for hair, began asking Lotor about a nearby planet.

“Have they surrendered yet, Sire?”

“No, not yet,” began Lotor. “General Krato has been unable to make any negotiations with the planets’ ruler. We are hoping to make further contact, but if their stubbornness persists we will have to use force.”

Lance scowled at that. Wasn’t Lotor just previously saying that there had been no complaints under his rule? Now he was trying to take over a planet that clearly wanted to be left alone. Lance knew the feeling.

“Does anyone have any potential ideas of persuasion?” asked Lotor.

“Well, we could…” a General trailed off. No one said anything.

Lance wondered what was with the sudden hesitation. Everyone seemed like they wanted to say something, but couldn’t. What was stopping them?

Oh, right. Him. They didn’t want to say any plans in front of Lance.

Lotor seemed to notice this too, and sighed. “There is no need to worry. Lance poses no threat; even if he were to hear of our plans there is no one he can relay information to. Hawthorn, I’m aware you have some ideas in line with our new weaponry. Do tell.”

Lance knew he should be annoyed by Lotor dismissing him, but at the moment he was too eager to hear about the future plans of the Galra. If he got any intel which he could take back to Voltron, then at least this experience wouldn’t have been completely awful.

But through the haze of alcohol, it was a little difficult to grasp onto what anyone was saying. It was difficult considering these were all planets he’d never heard of before. Maybe he was really that dumb.

The General Lotor was speaking to, Hawthorn he guessed his name was, began discussing using some new laser beam. Lance tried to remember everything he could, so much so that he was frowning and staring off into space.

“Just keep drinking, Lance.” Said Lotor, bringing him out of his mindset. Lance didn’t want to, but figured taking a sip by himself was better than having the whole contents forced down his throat.

Hawthorn kept talking about his plan. “I figured they would surrender if we lay siege to their nearby moon. It is where they get the majority of their food from, and people are far more lenient if their children can’t eat.”

Lance couldn’t help it. The casualness that this guy spoke of making _children starve_ was ludicrous. He scoffed.

That was a mistake. Hawthorn turned to him and glared at him.

“Do you have anything to say, Paladin?”

As much as Lance knew it was a bad idea to keep talking, he couldn’t help it. “Yeah, maybe I do have something to say about you hurting innocent people. And I think it says a lot about the quality of your Empire if you have to starve children in order to keep things in “balance”.”

Hawthorn gritted his teeth. “I don’t think Lotor’s consort has any place in criticising the Empire.”

“I’m not Lotor’s-”

“You are just a thing-”

Lance had had enough of being insulted that evening. “DON’T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!” he yelled, standing up, slamming his hands on the table with a crash. In his rush, he had knocked the goblet, spilling the drink on himself. He would have felt embarrassed, but at least that meant he didn’t have to drink anymore of it.

Hawthorn unsurprisingly didn’t take too kindly to Lance’s outburst. He placed a hand on his sword, which was attached to his hip, and made as if to rise. The atmosphere in the room changed as everyone shifted in preparation for a fight.

“You think scum like you can speak of the Empire that way? You little-”

But he didn’t get to finish that sentence before Lotor himself stood up. Lance had almost forgotten he was there. Expecting a hand to drag him down to his seat, or for a slap across the face, he was surprised when Lotor said. “Hawthorn, I advise you to calm down before you fall from my favour.”

Lance was confused. Lotor wasn’t mad at him? Just Hawthorn?

Hawthorn himself seemed surprised by that.

“But-”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I suggest you take your place in the Nursery.”

Lance could help it. He snorted. That was apparently enough for Hawthorn to jump up with a snarl. Lance readied himself for a fight-well tried to, it was hard to get into a fighting stance when his brain still felt fuzzy.

“Hawthorn, control yourself. Sit down, now.” Said Lotor.

Hawthorn gestured angrily. “I can’t, it’s not-”

“You dare challenge your Emperor?” There was a calmness to Lotor’s voice, but it was still enough to make Hawthorn falter.

“But…but your Highness, he insulted the Empire!”

“And I will see that he is reprimanded for it,” said Lotor, “But for now he does not know any better. Leave him be.”

“But, Sire-”

“Leave. Him. Be.” The coldness in Lotor’s glare left no room for debate, and with a huff, Hawthorn slowly sat back down. It was obvious that the other Generals wished he hadn’t. They too looked like they wanted to attack Lance.

As if Lotor sensed this, he gestured to the nearest server. “Take the boy back to my room. Make sure he is cleaned up.”

The server nodded, and took Lance’s arm gently, most likely to avoid the liquid dripping off of him. While he didn’t get the chance to keep yelling at Hawthorn, Lance was definitely glad to be leaving this banquet.

But what would be waiting for him back at the room? Would Lotor be mad at him? This whole meal had seen Lotor go back and forth between cutting and defensive. Lotor had been on his side during the argument with Hawthorn, but all of those things he had said about Voltron. If Lotor wanted the two of them to be close, why would he be so cruel? How could he think Voltron was never coming for Lance?

Lotor had resumed talking about warfare with another General. Hawthorn sat there fuming. Lance was so focused on them that he almost didn’t hear a voice.

“They’re coming for you.”

“Huh?” Lance wondered, and turned to where the voice had come from. It was the server.

She was avoiding eye contact, but it was definitely her that had spoken.

“The Blade has been given instructions to prepare for your rescue.”

She was speaking so quietly that Lance had trouble hearing her, but it was becoming clear what she meant.

“Wha…what?”

“Keep your voice down,” said the server, still guiding him out of the room. “Act as if I’m not speaking to you.”

Lance was still confused, but compiled, turning his head away but still keeping his ears open.

“Lotor is wrong, Blue Paladin. They will be here in 7 quintents.”

They…did the server mean…

“Voltron is coming for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up with alien names is HARD
> 
> And whaaaa? A chapter that didn't take 4 months to come out?
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I hope you're relieved to find out that Voltron is still on their way! But will they be able to save Lance once they arrive? Stay tuned to find out!
> 
> I just want to say this story now has over 5000 hits, which is so amazing, all of you are just so incredible, thank you for reading!
> 
> I also want to give a major shout out to https://alpha3fish.tumblr.com/ who drew this amazing art of the last chapter! 
> 
> https://66.media.tumblr.com/704286c8196769dfc894afa74a07bdc7/tumblr_messaging_pqdn1uGnTe1u0xo8o_1280.png 
> 
> I'm so honoured that such a talented artist likes my story, make sure to check out their Tumblr page!


	15. 7 Quintents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance counts down the days until Voltron arrives

7 Quintents.

That’s how long he had to wait.

That’s how long it would be until he was free.

It was as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. Granted, the alcohol had already kind of done that, but since his last escape attempt had failed, Lance really was starting to wonder if he was getting off this ship.

But they were coming for him. Of course they were. They were his family, he never should have doubted them.

Though he knew he shouldn’t be feeling so giddy right now. It still wasn’t going to be easy to escape, even with Voltron’s help. He was in the middle of the main ship, and Lotor had fought them all in battle before. While Lance wanted them to rescue him, he was worried they’d get hurt trying.

But Lance was still excited. Finally, he would be leaving this hell hole. He would be leaving Lotor. It took all of Lance’s energy not to dance around the room.

He could have kissed that Blade Member. Lance had never seen her before (granted, they all wore masks the majority of the time) but the knife she showed him was unmistakable. Lance remembered how Keith used to hold onto his like it was his safety blanket.

Lance spent the next hour trying to sit still and not show his excitement (in case someone was watching him), and drinking as much water as he could; attempting to purge the alcohol from his system. He was worried that in his drunken state he could let something slip, but the buzz just wouldn’t leave. He made a note of refusing to drink anything other than water for the remainder of his time here. Fuck Lotor.

Speaking of whom, the door opened and the unmistaken steps of Lotor sounded behind Lance.

Lance froze, and didn’t turn to look at Lotor. Namely for two reasons; firstly, he was worried his expression would make Lotor suspicious. If Lotor suspected anything, Lance could kiss his freedom goodbye. Secondly, he was nervous. In his excitement over Voltron, he’d momentarily forgotten that he’s just had a screaming match with one of Lotor’s head Generals. Lotor was bound to be angry.

“Lance?”

Lance didn’t turn around.

More footsteps, and Lotor was directly behind him now. Lance could feel breath on his neck.

“Lance, look at me.”

Lance couldn’t.

Lotor didn’t say anything more, and Lance was prepared for the worst. He was not prepared, however, for Lotor’s arms gingerly wrapping around him, hugging him from behind.

“Uhh…Lotor?” said Lance, confused. Lotor wasn’t mad?

Lotor just rested his chin on the top of Lance’s head. “I must admit, I was nervous about having you eat with my Generals, but you handled it wonderfully. Pity I can’t say the same about them.”

“You…I thought I would ha-”

“You were wrong to insult the Empire, Lance. You will have to be reprimanded for that, but Hawthorn was out of line.”

“Oh…” Lance wasn’t sure what to make of that. Especially when Lotor had previously yelled things very similar that Hawthorn had.

And Lotor was still hugging him. It was odd; similar to how they laid in bed. But also different. While it still felt suffocating, like a cage, Lance got the impression that this time, that wasn’t what Lotor intended.

Was Lotor trying to apologise or something? Lance thought that was surprisingly nice, he wouldn’t have expected Lotor to do anything like-

“You are not his to insult.”

Ah. Right. Of course. If he was considered Lotor’s property, then an attack on Lance was an attack on Lotor himself. Lance bitterly wanted out of this conversation. But the arms around him wouldn’t allow that. If he pissed Lotor off, there was nowhere to run.

Besides, Lance had to focus on his future escape. If he got into a proper fight with Lotor, he could lose what little freedom he had. Lotor was letting him roam around the room by himself, and was even showing him around the ship. He couldn’t risk losing that.

Also, if he pissed off Lotor enough Lotor could just kill him, but Lance didn’t want to think about that.

He figured he had to appease Lotor. Not too much, if he suddenly started acting all lovey-dovey with him Lotor would get suspicious, but a little leniency goes a long way.

“Well, um…thanks for defending me.”

Lotor gently squeezed his arms tighter around him, as if saying, “You’re welcome.”

“Err..do meals with the Generals usually end in arguments?”

Lotor huffed, “Usually. Someone is always angry that someone else has a better army than they do, or that sone-so stole the credit in a particular battle, or anything stupid like that.”

This was an interesting revelation, Lance thought. Lotor really seemed to hate everyone else in the Galra Empire, even his closest allies. Now that he knew he was escaping soon, he’d have to make sure to retain that information to give to Voltron.

“You don’t like them very much, do you?”

“I wouldn’t consider them friends, no. But we’re not supposed to be friends, we simply discuss battle strategies, and I give them their orders.”

“It’s usually nice to have someone to talk to about other stuff though.”

Lotor nodded. “I’m glad I have you. I can talk with you now.” Lotor moved his head onto Lance’s shoulder, their cheeks grazing each other’s. Lance tried not to flinch.

“How are you feeling?” Asked Lotor.

“I’m okay. I still feel a little weird from that drink.” He was actually quite thankful for the drink now. Being tipsy made acting pleasant easier.

“Like I said, I figured you needed it. Like in the bar all those nights ago, you were drunk there, and everything was so much easier.” That damn bar. Why did everything come down to that night in the bar? Lance swore, once he got out of here he was never stepping foot in a single bar ever again.

Lance was starting to feel a little too suffocated in Lotor’s hold, and made to subtly move away. But Lotor wouldn’t allow it, his arms going ridged.

“Not yet, Lance.”

“But-”

“Just a little longer. You’re in debt to me right now, and you did insult the Empire. Consider this your punishment.”

Lance decided not to argue. He’d pushed far enough today. So he just nodded silently, and let himself go limp, feeling the rise and fall of Lotor’s chest behind him.

They stood that way, for what felt like forever.

 

* * *

 

 

6 Quintents.

At first, Lance wasn’t quite sure how to strike up a conversation. How does one start a chat with an Emperor that you’re currently enemies with…and also kind of…boyfriends with? It was usually Lotor who initiated their talks.

Plus, Lance had to balance it. He couldn’t seem to forward, or Lotor would think something was up. But he couldn’t be too stand-offish either.

What the quiznack could they talk about then?

It was early morning, and the two of them were just waking up. Lotor was always the one to wake up first, but usually Lance quickly followed suit. Even though he had little to do all day except stay in the room, Lance knew some semblance of routine was best for his sanity.

Lotor unfurled his arms from around Lance, and Lance let out a slow breath of relief. Since their talk last night, Lotor had seemed to be extra clingy that night.

“Good morning, Lance”

“Morning.”

Lotor was still forcing these weird pleasantries. Lance figured if he wanted to get out of here, he would have to act along. But he still had no idea how to talk to Lotor properly.

But then, as he watched Lotor sit up and stretch, he couldn’t help but see his hair cascading down his back, and it brought to mind a question he’d always wanted to ask.

“How do you get your hair like that?”

Lotor’s hair had always been a point of fascination for Lance. He wasn’t quite sure why. Jealousy, perhaps. Lance had always prided himself on his hair, had taken meticulous care of it, so seeing a guy with effortlessly long hair that didn’t even tangle did kinda piss him off.

“What do you mean?’

“It’s so smooth. How do you keep it that way?”

Lotor picked up a piece of his hair and looked at it indifferently.

“I’m not sure. My mother had hair similar to this I think. I guess it’s in my genetics.”

“Oh.” Said Lance. He tried to hide the disappointment in his voice, turning his head, which was still laid on his pillow.

Lotor could read him well enough though, and seemed to backtrack. “Although, I did use to have this cream, which I got from this market that was only open once a millennium. It did wonders for my hair. I haven’t been able to go for a while though. Do you use hair creams?”

“Yeah, all the time.” Or rather, he used to, Lance thought. “I hate how my hair looks now.”

“You have lovely hair.”

“I used to use this gel to kind of smooth it up into this coiffed style. Oh, and I had this shampoo with papaya extract, that was great. I feel like my hair’s always going flat now.”

“I feel the same.”

Lance scoffed, “Yeah right, I don’t think your hair could go flat even if you hosed it down.”

Lotor laughed, “Even when you are giving a compliment, it still sounds like an insult.”

“Oh yeah,” said Lance, suddenly nervous, “I do tend to run my mouth, as you’ve probably noticed. Voltr-people used to always say I should dial it back on the jokes.”

“No, keep the jokes, I like them.” Said Lotor, fondly looking down at Lance from his sitting position. He was looking at Lance as if he was the most precious thing in the world, and that made Lance feel very uncomfortable. Especially when he knew how angry and deranged that face could also look.

Lotor reached down, and smoothed back Lance’s hair from his forehead. Lance tried not to move, instead trying to move the conversation along.

“My hair’s similar to my dad’s, although he’s started to bald. Maybe I’ll be going bald soon. That’s honestly my worst nightmare.”

Lotor chuckled again. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. It’s getting quite long now, before you know it it’ll be as long as mine.”

“I’m not sure I’d suit long hair,” said Lance, touching his hair, being careful to avoid brushing Lotor’s fingers, “I could probably do with a haircut.” Plus, as much as he didn’t want to say it, now that his hair was longer, it reminded him of Keith. He didn’t need that shot of grief every time he looked in the mirror.

“I can have a haircut arranged, if you’d like.” Said Lotor, still looking down at him.

Lance nodded gratefully, then yawned, the remnants of sleep still on him.

Lotor smiled, and ran his hand through Lance’s hair once more.

“It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

5 Quintents.

“I have a gift for you.”

Lance tensed up when Lotor said those words. True, he loved presents, but Lotor’s idea of a “gift” was very different from Lance’s.

Especially the way Lotor had barged into the room, interrupting Lance’s very valuable stare-at-the-wall time. Lotor seemed…excited, almost? Lance wasn’t sure, Lotor was very good at hiding his emotions, but there was something there.

Not just on his face, but behind him. He was holding something behind his back. What was it?

Finally, he figured it would be better to just ask. Just get it over with, whatever the gift might be, be it someone’s dead body or being groped more or whatever.

“What is it?”

“Well,” said Lotor, “I hope I got the correct type.” And he held his arm out towards Lance. In his hand, was a set of creams and face lotions.

Lance was momentarily stunned. This really was the type of gift he would want. He stepped off the bed and towards Lotor. They were all there, every lotion he'd ever used, it was…where did Lotor get this?

“They were rather tricky to find. I had to have people go to very specific Mall in some distant galaxy, but we did get a free cow from it.”

Lance gently took the creams from Lotor’s hand, looking at them all. They really were all here. Lance tried not to think about how Lotor knew this. Some of these creams he’d only used during his time on Earth.

“This is what you wanted, right?” asked Lotor. It would seem sweetly shy, if not for the ever-present confidence he always had.

Acting grateful to Lotor was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but he had to keep Lotor appeased. He forced himself to smile. “Yeah, they’re great. Thank you.” His voice didn’t hold much enthusiasm, but it was enough for Lotor, who smiled, and touched Lance’s arm gently.

Lance was kind of grateful though. His skin and hair had been at their worst lately. Plus, it was kind of comforting, holding items he was so familiar with. His daily beauty routine had been a kind of sanctum for him, so it would likely make the rest of his time here easier.

“You can put them all in our bathroom, if you wish,” said Lotor. “I understand that everything in this room is collectively my stuff, so I think it’s good for you to have some of your own things. It shall make the room feel more…homely.”

This wasn’t going to be Lance’s home for much longer, Lance thought. Hell, it had never been Lance’s home. But he didn’t tell Lotor that. He just smiled and nodded, and took the creams to the bathroom. Once he’d placed them on the counter, all in the order he would use them, he took the cap off a bottle of serum he used for skin and gave it a sniff. It really was the same stuff he used, it even had the lemony smell.

He poured a little bit of the serum on his fingers, feeling it. It felt like a comfort blanket. He might as well start his routine now.

By the time Lotor came into the bathroom, Lance had half of the counter on his face.

Lotor stared at him for a moment before asking bemusedly, “I take it you like them then?”

“Yeah, they’re-”

“Oh wait,” Lotor interrupted, “You’re putting on the blue cream wrong.” He stood closer to Lance and began to rub the cream that was already on his cheeks up and down, instead of in the circles Lance had been doing. Lance let him. “If you rub it in this way, it’ll soak in better.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, I’ve used something similar before, and that was what worked best for me.” Lotor looked across the counter. “Some of this stuff I’ve never seen before, though. What’s this one do?” He asked, picking up a tube.

“Oh, I wouldn’t use that if I were you. You have white hair, so it would immediately turn it green or something.”

“I see,” said Lotor, putting the tube down, “I guess it’s best for me not to touch that then. What else are you using?”

They began to discuss all of the creams, both of them going into detail about their own routines. It was nice, having someone to talk to about this stuff. No one ever seemed that interested in beauty routines. Keith always made fun of him for it.

 

* * *

 

  
4 Quintents.

Lotor hadn’t come in all day. Lance was fine with that.

He stared at the ceiling, laid down on the bed, his mind wandering.

He wondered what Lotor was doing. He was most likely in a meeting, with those awful Generals. Or maybe he was in battle. Maybe he was invading another planet. Lance wouldn’t put it past him.

The way he’d occasionally hear Lotor talk about his plans, his place as Emperor; he’d had this utmost certainty that he wouldn’t fail. That he would take over the entire Universe.

Lance couldn’t wait to prove that wrong. He looked forward to the day Voltron destroyed the Galran Empire. Lotor definitely wouldn’t take that well. Hell, he imagined that even his escape would be met with fury.

He was getting antsy, waiting for Voltron. They were only a few quintents away but the time had passed so slowly. He imagined them bursting through the walls with their Lions, and they would all run towards each other and hug. Lance knew he would cry when they found him. He was missing them so much.

Then Allura, or Shiro, or maybe Hunk, would pass Lance his Bayard, and he’d fire down all of the Guards that came to stop them.

Hunk would break down every door that got in their way, Pidge would hack all of the sentries, Shiro would fight them all off effortlessly, and Allura would shout something victorious, some kind of catchphrase…okay Allura had never been on board with Lance’s ideas for catchphrases, but maybe now she’d make an exception.

Blue would suddenly activate, and she’d come rushing to their aid, and once they’d blown half the hip to smithereens, Lance would make to jump inside Blue.

Lotor would show up at one point, of course he would, but what would he do? Voltron was here, and he couldn’t stop them. He’d have to watch helplessly as Lance walked into Blue. Maybe he’d be the one to say a catchphrase or something. Like, “Smell you later” or “See you, Space Douchebag.” Or maybe just “Fuck you.”

That would wipe the ever-present smirk off Lotor’s face.

Then he’d blow Lotor up. Okay maybe not blow Lotor up. But punch him or something.

And then he would be free.

What would he do, once he was free? Taking a shower would probably be the first priority, he had to wash Lotor off of him. Then maybe…he knew he’d probably have to sleep; he hadn’t slept well ever since he arrived here. But he just wanted to sit with his friends. He just wanted to look at them, talk with them. To just be safe, with his family.

Maybe he’d ask Allura to tell him more about Altean cultures. Maybe he’d ask Shiro to teach him some new fight moves. Maybe he’d play video games with Pidge, joke with Coran, try some of Hunk’s new recipes.

Maybe he’d ask about Keith.

He knew that was one thing they’d have to talk about. Of course they would. There was a part of Lance, that still hoped that Keith was alive, that he would show up with them for Lance’s rescue, or Coran would say “don’t worry my boy, he’s just in a healing pod!” It was a fool’s hope, but Lance couldn’t help it.

Maybe he’d go and see his family. As in, his family on Earth. He wondered if he could visit, spend a few days on Varadero Beach, or any place in Cuba, he didn’t mind. He needed to see his family. He knew Voltron had a mission, he couldn’t stay on Earth for long, but after all he’d been through, he just wanted his mom.

He wondered which part of the ship Voltron would enter through. Maybe the hanger, where Blue was. He’d have to try and get there. That way he could maybe get nearer to Blue, prepare her for the escape.

At the very least, he had to get out of this room. This area was apparently the most guarded place, except for some prison areas. Saving him would be hard enough, Lance wanted to make his rescue as easy for Voltron as possible. He had to be allowed to wander around outside.

But how could he convince Lotor to let him?

 

* * *

 

  
3 Quintents.

The opportunity arose that night when they were both in bed.

Lance had been fidgeting a lot in Lotor’s hold, wondering how he would ask, going over the possible outcomes in his head. Eventually Lotor grew irritated by this.

“Could you lie still? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Sorry, I just…” Lance started, but then didn’t know what else to say. If this was going to work, he’d have to choose his words very carefully. He bit his lip, staring into the darkness that surrounded them.

Lotor realised that Lance wanted to ask something, and drummed his fingers on Lance’s arm. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s just…” Okay, here goes, “Do you feel trapped?”

That wasn’t the question Lotor was expecting. “Huh?”

“You’re always complaining about how long you have to spend in that office. Do you feel trapped?”

“Do we have to talk about this now? It’s late.”

Well, it looked like his plan had already been a failure. Dammit. “Oh, okay, we can talk later.”

But he immediately felt Lotor sigh behind him, as if Lotor felt Lance’s desperation. “Well,” he said, “I wouldn’t say I feel trapped. More bored really.”

“Do you want to be there?”

“Of course, ruling the Empire has always been my main ambition in life. And every day spent in there shows how successful the Empire is. Meetings can be tedious, but being Emperor is a responsibility, not a chore.”

Lance breathed deeply, then craned his head around, so he could see the outline of Lotor in the corner of his eye. “Do you feel trapped, being Emperor?”

Lotor looked at him, confused. “Where’s all this coming from, Lance?”

“Nowhere, I was just wondering.”

“Tell me. You’re going somewhere with this.”

Lance bit his lip. He had to make this conversation about Lotor’s feelings, not just his. Otherwise it would just look like he was pushing for something.

“The other night, when you were talking about the Generals. It made me feel kinda sad, that you don’t consider them your friends.”

“They are not meant to be my friends,” said Lotor, but Lance could feel Lotor tensing behind him. This conversation was affecting him more than he was letting on.

“I figured you would feel lonely.”

“Why?”

“It’s how I feel, trapped in here alone.”

Lotor made to argue, and Lance suddenly realised he needed to specify. “I mean in this room. There’s no one here except me all day.”

Okay, the seed had been planted. But would Lotor buy it? Or would he just shut Lance down?

“You don’t like being in this room,” Said Lotor, deadpan.

Maybe he had to butter Lotor up more, as much as Lance knew he would hate doing that. “That talk that we had, in the dining hall. I realised you were right.”

Lotor shifted behind him, his arms around Lance loosening slightly. “Oh?”

Lance’s skin crawled, picturing the smirk on Lotor’s face that was bound to be there. “I did enjoy being out more. Thanks for taking me there.”

Lotor placed his hand on Lance’s hip. “You’re very welcome.”

“I want to go out more often. Every day, if possible.”

Lotor shook his head. “I can’t always take you out, I don’t have the time.”

“Couldn’t I just walk around by myself?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I mean, with like, a guard or something.” Said Lance desperately. “Please. Like you said, there’s nowhere for me to run. I don’t even know how to navigate this place.”

Lotor hummed behind him, and then Lance felt Lotor’s hands fully grasp his sides, suddenly turning Lance around so that they were facing each other. Their faces were only inches apart. In the dark, he could only faintly make out Lotor, but he could feel his breath. Could feel his staring eyes, scanning him for any hint of deceit.

“You tried to escape before.”

“And I failed, didn’t I? And that was without a guard.”

Lotor looked thoughtful. “True. But tell me, how would that make you feel less lonely?”

Lance nervously wet his lips, which Lotor’s eyes followed. “I guess…it would keep me distracted. All I have in here are my own thoughts. It’s driving me crazy.”

Lotor rubbed Lance’s back, almost sympathetically, but still looked unsure. “I’m still not sure. You haven’t fully proved yet that I can rely on you to keep your word.”

Lance had no retort for that, except a small, “Please.”

That finally seemed to get through to Lotor, who sighed. “I shall think about it.”

Lance wondered if he should press further, but thought better of it. Instead, he settled for “Thank you, Lotor.”

Lance rarely said Lotor’s name, and because of that Lotor seemed to react to the sound of it. He leaned in closer to Lance.

“At the bar, you said…you said you felt sorry for me.”

“Yeah?”

“Were you thinking the things that you’ve said tonight?”

“I…I guess I was.”

Lotor placed a hand on Lance’s cheek. “I felt sorry for you too.”

Lance wondered what he meant by that, but didn’t get the chance to ask. Lotor was leaning in, his lips brushing up against Lance’s. Not quite kissing him, as if waiting for Lance to close the minuscule gap between them.

Lance considered the possibilities. True, kissing Lotor would be a definite way to earn Lotor’s favour. It would likely guarantee his freedom within the ship. But then again, would it? Lance didn’t want to kiss Lotor, and what if he did and it led to nothing? Maybe he could hint that he _would_ kiss Lotor, once Lotor let him out of the room.

Also, there was that constant idea in his mind, that if he was suddenly throwing himself at Lotor then it wouldn’t seem convincing. Yes, those were the reasons he couldn’t do this. It wasn’t that he was terrified.

So Lance let Lotor brush against his lips, but didn’t press back against him. Thankfully, while Lotor seemed a little disappointed, he accepted Lance’s decision.

“Let’s sleep now.”

Lance nodded, and tolerated their new position for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

 

2 Quintents.

“Because I said so, Lance. You need new clothes. Put them on.”

Lance scowled at the clothes in front of him. True, he had been wearing the same outfit for weeks now, but he didn’t like these new clothes. For starters, they weren’t his colour at all. They were the purple of the Empire. And there was an insignia on the left side of the jacket, which was similar to the Galra insignia, but had gold embroidery around it. He wasn’t sure how he could tell, but Lance knew this was an extra touch by Lotor, just for him. As if he was being branded.

To be fair, when Lotor had said Lance was getting new clothes, Lance had expected worse. He had seen what consorts usually wore. Jewellery and silks, that were definitely pretty, but would have felt like slime on his skin. These clothes were just a jacket, (more structured than the one he usually wore), a t-shirt (that unfortunately was more tight fitting than Lance was used to), trousers and boots. This was definitely the lesser of two evils.

So Lance begrudgingly nodded, picked up the clothes, and headed to the bathroom. He still wasn’t able to change in front of Lotor, and figured that if he was leaving soon, there was no point in forcing himself to endure that.

The clothes fit well. They actually felt very good quality, the jacket’s material was much less rough than his old jacket had been. Lance figured that these weren’t the worst clothes for a prisoner to wear.

Stepping out from the bathroom, he saw Lotor’s smile.

“You look wonderful.”

“Thanks. The clothes actually feel pretty good.”

“They are made from some of the finest materials in this Universe,” said Lotor, walking over to him to inspect him more closely, running his hand up and down Lance’s jacket sleeve, “Only the best for us.”

Lance made himself smile. He should be feeling happy right now anyway. Lotor had agreed to let him out of the room.

Lotor gently took Lance’s hand, and led him out. Multiple guards were stationed there, and as Lance and Lotor began to walk, all of them followed. It almost seemed kind of comical, when Lotor had taken him out before, it had just been the two of them. But now a whole crowd was with them.

Lotor saw Lance’s smirk. “What is it?”

“Sorry, I just…we’ve never had this much company before.”

“Ah, right,” said Lotor, looking back on the guards behind him. In their uniforms, Lance couldn’t tell any of them apart. “Well, there will be times when I can’t be with you. These guards shall be your escorts, so I thought it would be educational for them to follow whilst I lay down some ground rules.”

Of course, obviously there would be guards and rules. But Lance couldn’t even be mad about it. He was too surprised by how lenient Lotor was being. So he didn’t complain that Lotor was still holding his hand as he led him around the ship.

“You are allowed as far as this corridor, and then from this corridor you may go into the Northern Wing, but you are not permitted to go inside any of the rooms with locks on the doors.”

“Gotcha,” said Lance, as he was pulled through endless corridors. He was already worried that he would break these rules out of sheer confusion of which corridor was which.

As the tour went on, Lotor barking out rules to both him and the guards, Lance decided to say, “I know I’ve already said this…but thanks again.”

Lotor looked him in the eyes. “Don’t make me regret this, Lance.”

“I won’t,” said Lance, already knowing that he would. He wondered which corridors he would be running through, once Voltron found him.

“Oh,” said Lotor, stopping in his tracks, “One more thing.”

“Yeah.”

“You are banned from the West Wing.” The way Lotor spoke felt very ominous, which made Lance curious.

“Why? Is there an enchanted rose there or something?”

“Lance,” said Lotor seriously, making Lance’s laugh die in his throat. “Listen to your Emperor.” Lance forced himself not to flinch at that.

“Do not, under any circumstances, go into the West Wing.”

 

* * *

 

 

1 Quintent.

“I can’t believe I’m stuck with him,” said his Guard to another, “I mean, who wants to look after some pet?”

Lance was looking around the room they were wandering, trying to ignore what the Guard was saying, even if he was making no effort to keep his voice down.

He considered telling Lotor about this. Considering what happened to Sorkal and Torque, Lotor would be on his side. But that idea made him feel weird as soon as he thought it.

The room they were wandering through was as basic as all the other rooms, but it was a change of scenery. Lance really had been going crazy stuck in his room, so even though he didn’t need to be out until tomorrow, when Voltron arrived, he was taking every opportunity to familiarise himself with the place. It cleared his mind, gave him something to do, plus it may come in handy, should Voltron get lost in this maze of a ship during their escape.

They were coming tomorrow. Lance couldn’t wait.

He imagined walking through rooms would be boring as hell for the Guard, who seemed to constantly have this deadpan expression, except now when he was chatting with another guard.

There were a few people dotted around the large room, it seemed like a courtyard of sorts. Lance tried to ignore the glares that were sent his way, though the odd Galra actually gave him a nod. Not exactly friendly, but better than the “I’ll kill you” vibes he was getting from the majority. He hoped the Guard would be willing to protect him should anything happen.

Suddenly, Lance spotted someone he recognised. The server. It was that server. The one that told him Voltron was coming.

Lance had to talk to her. Ever since she’d told him, there had been a little niggling voice in the back of his head, wondering if she was just messing with him, or that he’d misheard how many quintents it would be. He had to make sure. But how to get over there?

Fortunately, Lance didn’t have to worry about that. As the server was holding a large plate of food, the Guard and his friend made a beeline straight for her, pulling Lance along with them.

“Is that food going anywhere?” The Guard asked. The server went as if to nod, but then spotted Lance. She shook her head, and handed the plate to the Guard.

“Go wild.”

The guards did just that, shoving the food into their mouths, and Lance took their momentary distraction to ask the server, “Are they really coming tomorrow?”

The server nodded, then said in a hushed voice. “They will be here at midday.”

“Where are they coming in from?”

“The hanger.” Her responses were short, most likely to avoid suspicion from other Galra nearby.

“Okay, the hanger. Are you….do you think that-”

But the server quickly shook her head and looked towards the Guards, who were finishing up their meal. She took the plate from them, and walked away, not even glancing at Lance. Their meeting was short, but enough to relieve him of his worries.

Okay, so he had to be by the hanger at midday. That seemed simple enough. He probably wouldn’t be allowed inside the hanger, due to Blue being there, but being nearby would be good enough.

It would be good to be near Blue again. He missed her. He missed many people.

 

* * *

 

 

0 Quintents.

It was midday.

Lance wandered down the corridor alongside the Guard. He could hardly contain his excitement. He could feel himself trembling, but clenched his fists to calm himself down, the Guard was already looking at him funny.

Lance had specifically asked for the two of them to wander the corridors near the hanger, to which the Guard shrugged and obliged. This Guard was the same one as the day before, so he was obviously lacklustre on the job. Plus, Lance had spotted him fiddle with his blaster, and seemed very inexperienced with it.

Why Lotor had picked this guy to guard him, Lance would never know. But he didn’t care. It was like everything was falling into place.

“So why do you want to be here?" asked the Guard, clearly bored.

“I just want to be near my lion. She makes me feel calm.”

“Hmm,” said the Guard, looking at him like some kind of weirdo, “Well, don’t be getting any ideas. I’m sure the Emperor doesn’t want you getting too close to that thing.”

Lance smiled, and nodded. He didn’t need to. He could hear it. The banging on the walls. It echoed around the corridor, not loud enough that many would be able to hear it, but loud enough to make the Guard suddenly nervous.

“What is that?” asked the Guard, his hand hovering over his blaster.

Lance knew exactly what that was.

They were here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voltron has arrived!! But will they be able to save Lance?
> 
> I hope you guys like the new chapter, tbh I think the last sections are a little weak, but due to it being exam season at University, plus I have a 10000 word essay due my brain is a little fried. But I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Again, massive shout out to tumblr artist Alpha3Fish, who has made more amazing art of this fic! They have done art of chapter 1 and 7, and they're so good!!!!  
> https://alpha3fish.tumblr.com/post/184438828148/this-is-from-the-chapter-7-of-you-are-my-family-by  
> https://alpha3fish.tumblr.com/post/184418478923/this-is-actually-the-very-first-scene-of-you-are?is_highlighted_post=1


	16. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape attempt 2.0 is underway. There's a lot of hugging and crying.

Inevitably, the alarms started blaring. Seems they had been upgraded since Lance’s last escape attempt.

 

The alarms however, managed to work to his advantage. There had been one second after the distant crashes that the Guard had looked at Lance in a panic, as if he was going to point his blaster in Lance’s face. But the alarms sounding almost deafeningly loud, and the flashing lights casting everything in shadow, gave Lance a brief opportunity as the Guard was confused by his surroundings.

 

Before the Guard could finish fumbling with his weapon and aim it, Lance had ripped it from his hands. He himself didn’t have time to aim it before the Guard lunged for him, and Lance knew that in close quarters the weapon wouldn’t be very effective, so instead of using it the way it was intended, Lance brought the butt of the blaster into the back of the Guard’s head.

 

The Guard dropped down to the floor, unconscious, and Lance carefully stepped around him as he made his way towards the crashing noises. Easy enough. He just hoped the rest of this endeavour would prove just as easy. Even if it was a fool’s hope.

 

He headed towards the direction of the noise, holding the blaster tightly, ready to fire at anyone who appeared in front of him. Though he had to stop his fingers from trembling. This was it. He was really going to leave this place.

 

He still had to be careful, he wasn’t free yet. He kept his back to the wall and quickly turned in the opposite direction whenever he saw the silhouette of a Galra. Thankfully, in the flashing lights, the Guards and Soldiers seemed not to notice him from a distance away. Plus, they all seemed too distracted, trying to find the source of all the disruption.

 

He reached the outside of the hanger, and peaked in through a hole that had been knocked in the door. No doubt that a Lion had done this. However, when his eyes roamed the room, he didn’t see anyone he recognised. His friends weren’t there. Huh?

 

He guessed the escape was already proving impossible, since his rescuers were nowhere to be seen. The only people in the room seemed to be Galran, though he couldn’t see their faces due to his limited view. But no black, yellow or green armour.

 

Especially no red.

 

Lance turned and ran from the room before anyone could spot him. He could hear some shouting behind him, but he ignored it and kept running.

 

If Voltron wasn’t there, then where could they be? They had to be somewhere nearby, but Lance was on his own, and a single blaster couldn’t save him once the Galra fully went after him. He didn’t have time to aimlessly wander around corridors, especially when there were Guards everywhere. But obviously it seemed that he had no choice.

 

He looked in whatever room he could find, turned to whatever significant noise he could hear. Nothing.

 

He began to fully panic, racing around corners, looking in every direction, immediately running away from anyone who didn’t look like Voltron, only to turn back moments later to check if he was wrong.

 

Where were they? Where in the quiznack were they?

 

Was it them? What if it wasn’t them? What if this was a coincidence, just someone else attacking? Or maybe there had been a coup, or maybe Lotor was just playing mind games with him to-

 

He turned a corner, and they were there.

 

Lance stopped in his tracks, as did Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk. There they were, all looking healthy, if a little frantic and tired. Hunk looked like he was on the verge of tears.

 

For a moment it was quiet, and everyone was still. They just stared at each other, as if Lance was worried that his friends were an illusion, and vice versa.

 

But that moment was broken when Pidge yelled, “LANCE!” and in a few steps, had jumped on him, in her version of a hug. And just like that, the other two joined in. Soon they were all a crying, hugging mess.

 

“Welcome back, Lance.”

 

“Lance, I’ve missed you so much buddy, you have no idea!”

 

“I was so worried we’d lost you!”

 

Lance couldn’t stop the tears falling from his eyes. This didn’t feel real, he was being hugged by his friends, it was…he was okay. They were really here. He was leaving this hell.

 

In such close proximity-since Hunk had picked all of them up in his arms for one giant hug-Lance couldn’t help but hear voices in Shiros’ helmet.

 

“Is he there? Is Lance there?”

 

“Allura?” said Lance.

 

Shiro smiled. “Yeah, I’ll let you talk to her real quick,” he said, passing Lance his helmet.

 

Lance held the helmet, balancing his blaster in the other hand. “Hey Allura!”

 

“Lance, is that really you?”

 

“Yes it is, Princess, the real deal!”

 

“That is wonderful to hear, I hope you are doing alright!”

 

“A few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise okay!” said Lance. Best not to give them the full story, especially now.

 

“Sorry Lance, your voice is sounding a bit muffled.”

 

“That’s probably because Hunk is crushing us all,” said Pidge, “Maybe we should stop hugging.”

 

“Pidge is right, you need to keep moving. Your fight is not over yet.”

 

So sadly, the hug ended, and Lance gave Shiro back his helmet.

 

“What’s with your clothes?” Pidge asked. Lance laughed awkwardly, but before he had time to reply, Hunk nudged her and coughed.

 

“Oh, I mean…never mind,” said Pidge. Then, “I’m gonna kick Lotor’s ass.”

 

“Language, Pidge,” chided Shiro, “But yes, if we happen to bump into Lotor, we will be making him pay for his actions. For now, we need to concentrate on getting back to the Green Lion.”

 

The group began to walk in the opposite direction.

 

“Wait,” said Lance, “Don’t we have to walk that way?” he asked, pointing in the direction where the crashes had initially come from.

 

The others smiled, Pidge especially looking smug. “That was just a distraction. Hunk used Yellow to make it seems as if we were barging our way in, while we all snuck in using Green.”

 

“Woah, sneaky!”

 

Pidge smirked. “I know, it was a stroke of genius!”

 

“Because it was my idea,” said Hunk, causing Pidge to falter.

 

“Yeah well…well maybe.”

 

Lance laughed. It felt as if nothing had changed. As they walked, ready for any trouble they came across, Lance looked at his blaster.

 

“Do you have my bayard, by the way?”

 

The others frowned.

 

“We couldn’t find it after you…we couldn’t find it anywhere,” said Hunk.

 

“The Galra probably have it,” said Shiro.

 

Oh. Lance was looking forward to using his bayard again. Fighting off the empire with this blaster was going to be tricky.

 

He wanted to ask about the other thing that was lost on that planet, along with his bayard. He knew now wasn’t exactly the time, but he had to know. But the fact that the others hadn’t flat out talked about Keith was telling. He wasn’t here, so clearly something was wrong, but maybe he was on the Castle ship. Maybe he was still…

 

“So…can-can I ask…is Ke-”

 

Nearby explosions cut him short, as they began to pick up the pace towards the Green Lion. Lance wondered how they would be able to fend everyone off. If they managed to recover Blue, they were still missing Red. They wouldn’t be able to form Voltron.

 

That questioned was answered by a crash outside, which cracked the glass on a nearby window. Taking a quick glance out, Lance saw a nearby ship that belonged to…no way, it was the Blade of Marmora! He watched as the ship zoomed and spun, dodging fire from Galra ships. Lance then noticed even more ships dotted about in the air, be it rebel ships, cargo ships, and more.

 

Lance couldn’t believe it, but of course they were all here. Even Voltron wouldn’t go up against the main Galra ship alone. Was this a large-scale plan? Were they planning to destroy the Empire as well as rescue him? While Lance enjoyed that thought; that idea that the war could be over so soon, but Shiro’s earlier remark of them having to escape made Lance doubt it. Was this really all just to save him? He really hoped it wasn’t. He didn’t want so many people risking their lives for him. He wasn’t worth it.

 

Those worries kept him quiet as they ran through the endless corridors (Lance was excited to get back in Blue, just so he would have another environment to look at), and even though they were as cautious as possible, inevitably, they ran into trouble.

 

Pidge suddenly halted, looking at the holographic map she was holding. “Sentries, dead ahead,” she whispered.

 

“Is there another route we can take?” asked Shiro.

 

Pidge shook her head. “The only other way we could go would mean that we’d have to loop back around the entire ship.”

 

Shiro sighed. “Then I guess we have no choice. Prepare to fight, everyone.” While the others held their weapons tight, Shiro looked to Lance. “Stand behind us, Lance.”

 

“What do you mean?” asked Lance, “I can fight!”

 

“It’s just, you seem a little…” began Hunk, who then trailed off awkwardly.

 

“I seem a little what?” asked Lance, legitimately confused. He knew he’d been gone a while, but he hadn’t changed that much, had he?

 

“You know what Lance, you’re right.” Said Shiro, smiling encouragingly. “Just brace yourself.”

 

Lance nodded, and stood in his firing stance, blaster at the ready.

 

They held their positions, until Shiro gave the signal, then all at once they attacked.

 

Pidge went first, firing her Bayard at the Sentries’ feet, knocking a ton of them over like a bowling pin.

 

Shiro ran in unafraid, his hand alight, swiping and slicing at anything that came near.

 

Hunk gave a loud battle cry and fired, knocking rows of sentries over, blasting them apart easily.

 

And while Lance was finding it difficult to adapt to this new blaster, he was still getting a good few shots in. It felt cathartic to take out the Sentries that had made him suffer. And with his team, it kind of felt like old times again. Even if he felt far more nervous due to the circumstances, he felt more like himself.

 

But the Sentries were tough, and every time one fell back, another marched forward in its place. Eventually the number got too great that Shiro had to yell, “Fall back!”

 

Hunk grabbed Pidge who was on the floor with an injured leg, and the four of them ran back to a more sheltered area. But the Galra wouldn’t let them have a second of peace, as the moment they entered another corridor, amongst that flashing lights and blaring alarms, barriers came down on both entrances of the corridor.

 

“They’re trying to trap us in!” cried Hunk.

 

“Quick, Pidge, can you do something about this?” asked Shiro.

 

He hadn’t needed to ask. Pidge was already limping towards a control panel in the wall, hacking into the mainframe.

 

Lance stood there and watched Pidge work. He had faith in her, but still felt worried. He could hear Soldiers and Sentries on both sides. What if they managed to get the barriers open, but were immediately surrounded and overpowered?

 

Were they underestimating the Galra? Was this just going to be like his last escape attempt? Fruitless and ultimately end in more suffering? He imagined what Lotor’s face would be like, and even though it would be just as furious as Lance earlier expected, the image was now terrifying instead of satisfying.

 

But in the chaos of lights and noise, something caught his eye. One of the doors in the corridor. It was huge, and looked familiar. Familiar enough to know what was behind it.

 

“I think I might have an idea.”

 

The door was locked, but he had no issue firing at the control pad until it malfunctioned and the door opened slightly enough that he could squeeze through.

 

"Lance, where the hell are you going?" asked Pidge, still preoccupied with her hacking.

 

"I’m getting us our escape plan!" said Lance, "but I might need someone to help."

 

"I’ll stay with Pidge," said Shiro to Hunk, "you follow Lance."

 

Hunk nodded, and even though the gap in the door was initially too small for him to fit through, his strength managed to push the large doors apart. He walked in to see a group of large cages, all with strange, intergalactic creatures within them. Hunk liked animals, but the grand size and ominous energy radiating from the creatures put Hunk on edge. Well, more on edge than he already was.

 

“Lance?” he called out nervously, as he couldn’t see Lance anywhere.

 

“Over here!” Lance called, and sure enough, he spotted Lance next to a particular cage, trying to find an entrance or lock.

 

“What are you doing?” asked Hunk, “What is that thing?” looking in the cage, he could only see a shadowy figure, but it had ghostly eyes that shone bright blue.

 

“It’s a Water Beast.”

 

“A what?”

 

“A monster that can control water. Many believed it was the Water Beasts who brought life to the forests, by making water in the sky. It’s a thing of-wait I don’t have time to be telling you this, just help me get it out!”

 

Lance continued poking around the edge of the cage, but Hunk wasn’t doing anything.

 

“Are you sure this is the best idea?”

 

Lance sighed in exasperation. "Look, we don’t have enough time, just help me! Lotor said that its power can be damaging to the electronic systems. It’s our ticket out of here!”

 

Lance, giving up on finding a lock, began pulling at the cage door. Hunk, seeing the creature notice Lance and move towards him, yelled, “Lance, get away from that thing! It could rip your arms off!”

 

“I don’t care!” Lance yelled back. And to an extent, he didn’t. By the way things were going, the Water Beast was their best option. But deep down, he knew it wouldn’t attack him. Lance looked up into its eyes through the cage, and even though those eyes still filled him with fear, there was something else. The Beast was wary of him, suspicious, but it recognised him. Even if they’d only met once before, there was a kinship there.

 

“You can either stand there and watch, or help me!”

 

Hunk looked at the expression on Lance’s face, whether it was of determination or desperation he couldn’t tell, but he sighed. His mind was made up.

 

“Lance, you know there’s a control panel 2 feet away from you, right?”

 

Lance looked behind him and spotted what Hunk was pointing to.

 

“Oh. Right. I knew that.”

 

Lance began to fiddle with the controls, but despite being here for so long he still didn’t understand how the Galran systems worked. He resorted to poking at whatever he could see on the panel.

 

“Lance, that’s not how you hack into something!” Hunk scolded.

 

“Well you won’t know unless you try, right?”

 

“And you’re freaking it out!”

 

Lance looked back at the creature, which was watching them with curiosity, and tried to smile reassuringly at it. “Don’t worry, we’ve got this.”

 

Lance did not have this. Technology wasn’t really his area of expertise. Hunk, however, seemed to know exactly what to do. Moving Lance out of the way, Hunk pulled cables from his wrist, and plugged them into the machine.

 

“This is a different electronic system to the regular door locks. It seems more simple; I don’t think the Galra were expecting anyone to set this guy free.”

 

“So you know how to deal with it?”

 

“Pidge isn’t the only tech wiz on the team,” Hunk smiled. And sure enough, in a few moments there was a beeping, and a loud clanging from the cage behind them. The two turned to see the Water Beast’s door, opening inch by inch. Seeing this as well, the creature shot up, eyes focused on the gap which was growing bigger every second.

 

Hunk let out a nervous laugh. The Beast looked ready to cause havoc, which would ultimately be helpful to them, but he couldn't trust whether or not it would just leap on him and Lance as soon as it got free.

 

Lance turned to Hunk and said, “Warn the others. Tell them to stand back, and get ready to run.”

 

Hunk, with more certainty in his face, nodded and ran out of the room. Lance looked back at the cage, at the Water Beast stepping forward to the opening door, bearing its teeth and stretching its legs. Lance looked it dead in the eye.

 

“We’re both getting free today.”

 

“GUYS, STAND BACK!” cried Hunk, running towards the Paladins. There was a banging behind the nearest barrier.

 

“Why, what is it?” asked Shiro, standing up and looking worried.

 

“I’m almost finished,” said Pidge, “I don’t have time to-”

 

“It doesn’t matter!” said Hunk, “Lance has our way out.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“No time to explain! Just get ready to run!”

 

And as Hunk said, there was no time. Before he could be questioned further, there was a loud CRASH behind them, as the doors to the zoo burst open.

 

The Water Beast burst out with a great roar, Lance following close behind.

 

“GO!”

 

It was as if a storm had miraculously appeared in the room. The other Paladins shielded themselves as an unbelievable amount of water was fired at them and the nearby control panel. Since Pidge had been hacking it, the system was already damaged, and it didn’t take long for the control panel to begin short-circuiting.

 

The barrier rose up slowly, but even that was redundant, as the beast ran straight through it, smashing it into pieces.

 

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?”  cried Pidge when she’d gotten over her initial shock.

 

“NO TIME!” yelled Lance, “RUN!”

 

And the Paladins did just that.

 

The alarms were drowned out by the snarls of the creature. Sentries seemed like ants, either short-circuiting from the water or easily being batted aside as if they weighed nothing. Whatever shots they could fire were useless; the Beast didn’t even notice them.

 

Voltron did their best to follow, making sure to stay close, but not close enough to be caught in the crossfire. With her injured leg, Pidge had to be carried by Hunk, and ultimately everyone was looking a little worse for wear. But with every step, they couldn’t help feeling more and more elated. So far on this mission, they had been the underdog. But now, escaping seemed easy.

 

"Great idea, Lance!" shouted Shiro, over the loud crashes and roars that the creature produced.

 

Lance, after his initial swell of pride at Shiro's approval, stared up at the creature in awe, water droplets running down his face. What irony it was, that the thing Lotor used to instil fear into him, was the thing that would set him free? He wondered if the Water Beast would want to stay with them all; become a part of the Voltron team. Sure, it was a lot bigger than Kalternecker, but Lance wouldn’t mind that at all.

 

But that hope left his mind as Shiro called for them to stop, and the creature kept going.

 

“Wait!” said Lance. But it didn’t hear him, continuously roaring and running.

 

“It’s okay, Lance,” said Shiro, “we’re here.”

 

“Don’t we still need its help?” asked Hunk.

 

“It’s fine, the Lions are just around this corner,” said Pidge, looking at the map.

 

Lance wanted to call out for the Water Beast again, to make it come with him or even say goodbye. But there was no time. And if he forced it to do anything, then what was the point of setting it free?

 

So it was the final lap, Lance thought, taking one last glance at the Beast as it turned a corner. This was it. He took a deep breath, looked at the backs of the other Paladins as they ran, and felt that sense of relief, as they made their way into the Lion’s makeshift hanger, begin to creep into his chest.

 

Only to have that relief, and his breath, ripped away the moment the hanger’s door closed behind them.

 

“I figured you’d get here eventually, Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance: I'm finally escaping!  
> Lotor: Suprise bitch
> 
> The chapter is finally up! At this point though I think it's safe to say that I'm not the best at keeping a regular schedule, so sorry for keeping you guys waiting! I'm hoping that the next chapter will come out sooner, as I love writing the chapters with Lance and Lotor interactions, but we'll see if I can put up another chapter within the month!
> 
> Will Lance manage to get past Lotor? Find out next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Hopefully, this will not just be an idea that spins off into nowhere. I actually have the whole story planned out, I'm expecting it to be around 30 chapters or so.  
> But yeah, this is set in an odd timeline somewhere during season 3, but Lotor's 4 lady generals don't exist. Idk, just go with it haha.  
> We should be seeing ya boi Lance next chapter!


End file.
